A Disastrous Visit
by Wisdom Witch
Summary: Sealand has to stay with England for a week. What sort of mischief will the micronation get up to? Rated T just to be safe.
1. England, the babysitter

**A/N: Hello everyone! Just wanted to say that this story will use both human names and names (although it will use human names more... hope that this doesn't confuse anyone).**

**Chapter One**

The personification of England let out a sigh of relief when the World Meeting had come to an end. It had been a disaster; the countries of the world had accomplished nothing, several countries had numerous fights, everyone had been shouting the entire time (much to the frustration of Ludwig, who had tried and failed to get everyone to shut up), and what was worse, stupid Peter had somehow managed to sneak into the meeting. That boy really got on Arthur's nerves...

Arthur got up and was about to leave the conference room when someone called his name. He spun around and his bushy eyebrows shot up.

"Berwald?"

"Art'ur." Berwald repeated as he strode towards the shorter blond, with a cheery-faced Tino and a gloomy Peter in tow. Peter sent a death glare in Arthur's direction and Arthur regarded him coldly in return.

"Hello, Arthur! How are you today?" Tino smiled at Arthur.

"I'm...fine." Arthur replied, looking a little puzzled.

"Tha's good." Tino's smile widened and it looked as if it might tear his face apart. They awkwardly stared at each other for a while.

"Well... it was nice speaking to you." Arthur finally broke the silence, wanting nothing more than to go home, drink tea and relax.

"W-wait! Just wait! I, erm... Berwald and I wanted to know if you could look after Peter next week. We're going to be away for a while with the other Nordics... we've got very important matters to discuss and we'd rather not get Petteri involved-"

"Peter." Peter interjected.

"-Yes, Peter," Tino smiled apologetically at the micronation, "Anyway, we need someone to... look after him while we're away." Tino explained with a shy expression on his face.

"I see..."

"So... will you look after him? We understand if you're too busy to take him in for a week, we'll get someone else..."

"Could you? It's just, I'll be very busy myself. I've got lots of work to do." Arthur lied. Why would he want to look after a selfish little brat when he could just relax and drink tea?

Tino's expression faltered, Peter glared at Arthur with hate-filled eyes and Berwald remained as stoic as ever.

"Stupid England... doesn't even care..." Peter muttered under his breath.

"Oh. Well then, like I said, we'll just have to get someone else. Er... do you have any recommendations?" Tino asked hopefully. He knew that Estonia wouldn't be able to look after Peter, as he was busy himself. Oh, the woes of being a country.

"Just get someone other than me," Arthur smiled, "Good day." he said before he started to walk away.

"Jerk..." Peter mumbled.

Tino looked slightly stunned. "Well... who should we get now? Alfred? Elisabeta?" he paused for a moment, "Francis?"

At Berwald's questioning look, he expalined, "I know he's a bit of a pervert, but you can't deny, he's good with kids. He did raise Matthew, after all."

"Who?"

"Matthew. You know... Canada. Alfred's brother."

Silence.

"Who?"

Tino sighed, "Nevermind. The point is, he's a good big brother. Maybe he'll look after Peter..."

"Isä, I'm standing right here." Peter scowled. He hated it when people talked about him as if he wasn't there.

"Sorry," Tino apologised automatically, then turned to Berwald. "Think we should ask him?"

Judging from the look on his face, Berwald clearly did not like the idea. He did not trust the perverted nation of romance- but then again, Berwald didn't trust anyone (with the possible exception of Tino and Peter). However, there was no one else that Berwald could think of, and so he nodded.

The family of three set off to find Francis- only to find him brawling with Arthur.

"**What **did you say about my cooking, you bloody frog?!"

"You know exactly what I said. It is ze most deesgusting thing I 'ave ever tasted, I was eel for three months after eating your cooking! It tastes worse than worms and maggots on a moldy piece of 'am!"

"Why you-!"

Berwald cleared his throat and the two rivals stopped arguing and stared at the older nation. The cold, blue eyes and the blank look that was etched on his face almost made Arthur shudder. Almost.

"Francis. We wo'ld l'ke to sp'ek w'th y'u." Berwald stated and Francis frowned.

"Oh, um. Very well."

"M'wife and I wo'ld appr'ciate it if y'u co'ld look af'er Pe'er n'xt week."

"How many times do I have to say this? I am not your wife, Berwald!" a fuming Tino was ignored by everyone. He cared for Berwald, loved him even, but he was not and would never be romantically involved with him... or so he kept insisting.

Francis blinked.

"You... want me... to look after Sealand?"

Berwald inclined his head. Arthur gaped at Berwald as if he'd gone mad. Who the hell would ask a creep like Francis to babysit?

"Why, I'd be delighted to!" Francis exclaimed happily. "We'll cook, we'll go dancing, we'll go fishing-"

"Now wait just one minute!" Arthur said rather loudly, his initial shock wearing off. "You won't be doing any of those ridiculous things together!"

Francis raised an eyebrow and Tino frowned.

"**I** will be the one looking after Peter next week!" Arthur stated. Lithuania and Poland, who had been in the same area, gaped at him in shock. Arthur ignored them, despite being a little shocked himself. He knew he was doing the right thing, though. There was no way in hell he would let his little brother stay with that pervert for an entire week! He may hate the little toe-rag, but his hatred for the brat was nothing, nothing compared to his hatred for the frog. He would never wish for anyone to spend a week with Francis, not even an enemy.

"But... I thought you said you were busy-"

"Well... I'm not **that** busy. Just a little. I suppose having little Peter around won't be too much of a nuisance-"

Peter gritted his teeth and shot Arthur a death squint.

"-after all, he is my... brother." Arthur said with an uneasy expression, as though it pained him to ever admit that he was related to Peter. "So would it really be a bad thing if he came over? We are brothers and our relationship is... strained. It would be a good idea to try and... and... _bond _with each other." Arthur said with difficulty. Oh dear God, no one would ever believe that he actually wanted to bond with the brat.

Berwald and Tino stared at each other, as if considering Arthur's proposal.

"I suppose... it wouldn't be a terrible idea..." Tino trailed.

Oh, yes. Yes it would. Arthur knew it. Francis knew it. Peter knew it. Berwald knew it. Tino knew it, but didn't want to admit it.

"Like you said, you are his brother..." Tino said, then bit his lip. He looked at Berwald, who nodded his approval. "Oh, alright! Besides, what harm could it do?"

Francis looked defeated, Arthur looked as if he had been sent to the gallows (despite having asked to look after Peter, he really, really didn't want to) and Peter scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"Don't I get a say in this?" he asked bitterly.

Everyone ignored him.

Arthur Kirkland let out a long sigh as he sat down on his favourite armchair in his cosy mansion. He sipped his tea and anxiously glanced at the grandfather clock. Peter was to arrive in five minutes. The blond sighed and put his tea cup down. He'd best get ready for the little devil's arrival. Why had he agreed to this again? Oh, that's right, because he was an idiot... and he really didn't want Peter to spend time with that pervert Francis. Lord knows what horrors he'd have gone through. At least with Arthur, he was safe... or safer.

_Ding dong._

The doorbell rang, causing a shiver to run down Arthur's spine. As he went to answer the door, he wondered what would get broken during the rascal's visit. He opened the door widely and stared at the two nations that stood on his doorstep, one of them carrying a large sack.

"Moi, Arthur!" Tino greeted Arthur with a wide smile. Arthur managed to make a feeble smile in return.

"Hello, Tino... Berwald." he acknowledged as he saw the very tall man who stood behind Tino. He stepped aside and, like the wonderful gentleman that he was, asked, "would you like to come in?"

"Thank you for the offer, but no. We really should get going. You'll find everything Peter needs in here," Tino handed the sack over to Arthur, "I apologise for not bringing a suitcase, but we needed more than we thought we did. Suitcases, that is. We had to take poor Peter's suitcase," Tino leaned in closer towards Arthur and whispered, "I'm sorry for Peter's behaviour last week. He doesn't usually act that way. He was very upset, that's all."

"I see... " Arthur said, but then realised something, "speaking of Peter, where is he?"

"Peter? Why, he's right-" Tino turned around and his eyes widened. "Peter?"

There was no sign of the micronation.

"B-but I don't understand! He was here just a few seconds ago-!"

"He's ov'r th're." Berwald said, jerking his head in the direction of a small boy who was happily playing with a little black and white cat.

Arthur marched towards Peter and yelled, "Hey!"

Peter flinched, thinking that Arthur was talking to him.

"Get out of here, cat!"

The cat saw Arthur approaching it too quickly for its liking and took off. Peter scowled at his older brother.

"You didn't have to do that, it didn't do anything wrong."

"That bloody cat always comes here, it scares Flying Mint-Bunny."

Peter frowned. Wasn't that one of Arthur's imaginary friends?

"Peter!"

Peter's head snapped in the direction of the voice.

"Peter, Pappa and I are leaving now," Tino said with a sad look on his usally cheerful face, "aren't you going to say goodbye?" he opened his arms widely.

Peter immediately ran into them and Tino gave his son a big bear hug. Peter wrapped his arms around Tino's neck tightly. Normally, Peter wasn't this clingy. But he was upset. Not only was he being parted from his beloved parents for half a fortnite, but he had to stay with that jerk England.

Tino had to pry Peter off him and Peter turned to Berwald. The father and son exchanged a long hug, and the loving look that Berwald gave his son surprised Arthur. He had hardly ever seen any emotion on Berwald's face and when he had, it was either directed at Tino or it was because he was angry.

"Well... we should get going. We'll see you in a week's time." Tino held out his hand to Arthur, who accepted it and shook it.

"Berwald." Arthur managed to make a small smile and Berwald inclined his head.

"Look af'er h'm."

"I will." Arthur promised. He watched as the family of three exchanged last goodbyes before Berwald and Tino climbed into their car and took off, with Tino waving at the two brothers. Peter waved back, his arms swinging in the air wildly and nearly whacking Arthur's face. The two Kirkland brothers stayed there until the car was out of sight. Peter let his arms drop to his sides.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Peter said, despite the fact that it was only six pm.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth." Arthur reminded automatically.

Peter grumbled in response and walked inside the big mansion, leaving his older brother with his sack.

**A/N: So, that's the first chapter done! The boys are in for a long week. Now, I know that usually in some stories, Tino is the "mama". Well, I just wanted to have Peter call him "isä", which means "dad" in Finnish and to have him call Berwald "pappa", which is "dad" in Swedish. I'm not quite happy with this chapter and I know that it's short, but next chapter will be longer (and much better). I feel that some of the characters might be a bit OOC, so if you feel that way too, please tell me. Constructive criticism is welcome. Please review!**


	2. America Pays A Visit

**Chapter Two**

A ray of sunlight found its way into the dark room, landing on the blond man's face. Arthur started to stir and blinked, using his right arm to shield his face from the bright light. The nation sat up and yawned before getting out of bed. He started to stretch a little before he padded down the marble staircase and headed straight for the kitchen.

He took out a frying pan and set it on the stove. He got the eggs out from his fridge and started breaking them before heating the stove. He put bread in the toaster and looked at the large clock on the wall opposite him. His eyes widened. Was it really that late?

Arthur couldn't believe that he had overslept and went upstairs to wake Peter up. He opened the door to Peter's room and found the little boy snoring loudly in his bed. "Peter, get up."

Peter turned a little in his sleep.

"Peter, it's late, come on!"

The micronation continued to sleep.

"Peter, you lazy boy! Get up!"

The only response Arthur got was a loud snore. Arthur narrowed his eyes a little and marched over to the curtains. He pulled them apart and light filled the room. Arthur turned around and was surprised to find that the child was still sound asleep. Light always woke Arthur up; although this could be simply because he was usually a light sleeper... which was probably why he didn't get enough sleep and often fell asleep during world meetings or worse, around his boss.

"Peter, come on. Wake up, please. If you get up, I'll bake you some cookies." Arthur said with a sing-song tone. This made Peter bury his face in his pillows and snore even louder than before. Arthur was certain that he was faking it.

The ex-Empire scowled and began to shake the boy gently, hoping to rouse him. However, the boy wouldn't wake up and Arthur started shaking him with more intensity until eventually, Peter was pushed off the bed. The little boy fell on the floor with a loud thud and woke up with a yelp. Peter looked up at Arthur with a scowl.

"Well, goodmorning to you too." Arthur said and Peter shot him a death squint.

"You didn't have to push me off the bed, you jerk."

Arthur ignored him and asked, "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

The boy didn't answer, continuing to glare at his older brother.

"It's seven a.m! Seven!" Arthur cried out. "I never wake up at seven! We were supposed to be up early today so that I could start working and you could do- well, whatever the hell it is that you do. I'll never get that report finished in time!"

Peter raised an eyebrow at his brother's antics.

Arthur took in a deep breath, calming himself a little as Peter got up.

"Breakfast will be ready soon; get dressed and come down in three minutes." he ordered swiftly before leaving the micronation alone. Peter stuck his tongue out at the door. What a jerk.

Heading for his wardrobe, Peter picked out his clothes, making sure to take a really long time. He took off his pajama top when the beeping sound of a fire alarm came out of nowhere. The loud noise startled Peter and the boy ran downstairs half-naked. He saw smoke coming from the kitchen and immediately made a beeline for it. He coughed a little and squinted his eyes, spotting England waving a towel around. The image of his older brother trying to whack smoke reminded Peter of Feliciano waving his white flag. Arthur looked so silly that Peter would have laughed had it not been for the fact that he was too busy coughing. Ultimately, though, the smoke was too much for Peter and he backed out of the room.

A few minutes later, Arthur managed to turn the smoke alarm off and after a few more minutes, the room was officially smoke-less. Well, except for Arthur's burnt toast.

"Can I skip breakfast?" Sealand piped up hopefully, entering the room once more. Arthur shot him a dark look and it took everything Peter had not to cringe. He sighed defeatedly and walked over to the table, sitting down on a random chair. He swallowed and took a piece of toast. He stared at it for a good long minute, picking at it with his fingers and dropping it on his plate.

Seeing the boy pick at his toast made Arthur sigh. The nation got up, took the boy's plate and dumped the contents in the bin. Peter stared at his brother and Arthur did his best to ignore him. He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and chucked it at his younger brother, who surprisingly caught it.

"You need to eat something. There's milk in the fridge. I'll be in my study should you need me." Arthur informed his brother, hoping that Peter wouldn't need him, before heading out of the kitchen. Then he stopped and looked back at Peter with a frown on his face. "Why are you half-naked?"

Peter looked down and, as if noticing it for the first time, blushed furiously.

"I- I... erm.. I..." Peter stuttered, not being able to form proper words. He suddenly dashed out of the room, racing back upstairs. Arthur shook his head and tutted as he heard Peter's door slam.

XXXXX

Peter stared blankly at the TV. He picked up the remote that lay next to him and turned the TV off. He was bored. There was nothing to do in this big, empty house. He wished that he had brought some video games and a game console, but his parents had been against the idea. He needed to find something to do. He was so close to just leaving this place. Honestly, Peter wondered why he didn't just go out and do something. Maybe that cute cat was back...

Peter got up and started wandering around. He hadn't been to many places in this mansion, despite having lived here once upon a time. Peter whistled as he jogged up the stairs and strolled down the corridor before coming to a stop in front of a large, oak door. Peter had often wondered what was in there, but it was always locked. Peter had long given up questioning England about what the room held. Arthur would always tell him (quite angrily) that it was none of his business and that he should stay the hell away from that door. After that, Peter simply assumed that Arthur kept dirty magazines.

Peter reached for the doorknob and twisted it but, as usual, nothing happened. Peter wasn't surprised; he knew that it would be locked, but he simply did this out of habit. Peter was a curious child and always wanted to go to places that he shouldn't go to (*cough*world meetings*cough*). For whatever reason, the fact that Arthur didn't want him to go into that room made him want to see it even more. An idea popped into his head. There was a window in that room, wasn't there? Then surely he'd be able to get in that room from the outside. Grinning widely, the micronation sped downstairs and was almost at the door when the doorbell rang.

Peter came to an abrupt stop. He stared incredously at the door. Who could it possibly be?  
>The doorbell rang numerous times. <em>Ding dong ding dong ding dong ding dong<em>.

Peter hurried to open the door before whoever it was could ring the doorbell again. He was shocked to find America standing outside. Alfred seemed equally as shocked to find Peter in Arthur's house. He quickly recovered though and grinned widely.

"Hey, Sealand! Is England here?"

"Er, yeah. He's in his study. I'll go get him now." Peter said quickly and slammed the door in Alfred's face. Peter raced to Arthur's study and knocked on the door rapidly.

"Peter, I'm busy. Go away." came a muffled voice from behind the door.

"Arthur, open up! Your fake-brother is here to see you!" Peter yelled.

"Fake-brother?" asked a bewildered voice.

"America!"

"America's here... but why?"

"I don't know! He wants to talk to you, now open up!"

Peter heard footsteps coming closer and then the door opened.

"Where is he?" Arthur asked.

Rolling his eyes, Peter replied, "He's outside."

Arthur frowned, but hurried downstairs. He flung the front door open and saw a tall young man's back facing him.

"Alfred?"

The man turned around and grinned goofily. "Hiya, Iggy! I need to talk to you- it's important!" Alfred pushed past the ex-Empire that had raised him and invited himself in.

"Woo, nice house! Looks exactly the same as the last time I came here!"

"That's probably because you came here last week." Arthur muttered, having grown annoyed by America's sudden visits.

"So aren't you going to offer me anything to eat? Like, oh I don't know... burgers?" Alfred asked hopefully.

"I don't have any burgers, America. Now what do you want?" Arthur demanded.

"I just told you, I have something important to tell you!"

"Then go ahead and tell me what's so important."

"I can't on an empty stomach! Also, this is kind of a business visit... I think..."

Arthur raised a bushy eyebrow.

"Besides, this is kind of private, and we can't speak freely in front of non-nations about this stuff..." America trailed on, looking directly at Peter, who had followed Arthur downstairs and hadn't left.

"There are no non-nations here." the little micronation said. Arthur sighed.

"Peter, go play or something."

"What? Why? I want to listen to whatever Alfie has to say," (well, that was a first... sure, Peter wanted to impress America at times, hoping that someone would recognise him as a country, but usually Alfred just spouted nonsense), "Maybe I could help!"

Alfred and Arthur exchanged doubtful looks.

"Peter, this really doesn't concern you. Just go out and play for a while."

"With what? There's nothing here that I can play with!" Peter exclaimed.

"Well, just go to your room then! Or better yet, start doing some work around this here. Make yourself useful!"

"No! I want to listen to what Alfred has to say! I'm a country and I have a right-!"

"For Heaven's sake, Peter, you're not a bloody country! You're just a silly little boy who has yet to grow up!"

Alfred watched awkwardly as Arthur and Peter continued bickering. He scratched the back of his neck, thinking of ways to stop the two from fighting.

"Guys, come on. Don't fight. Look, Petey, I understand why you'd want to know what's going on. But if you do as Iggy says, I'll buy you ice-cream... and a burger."

Both of the youngest Kirkland brothers scowled a bit at America's nicknames for them. Peter didn't answer, instead preferring to glare at Alfred.

Arthur looked down at his little brother expectantly.

"Fine." Peter said through gritted teeth before storming away. Arthur really didn't understand why his brother wanted to be a country so much. There were as many bad things as there were good that came with it. He also didn't understand why Peter would throw a hissy fit when someone told him the truth- that he was not and would never be a country.

Arthur turned to face Alfred, "Should we take this in my study?"

"Sure. Hey, why is Sealand here anyway?" Alfred asked the nation who raised him as they headed for England's study.

"Finland and Sweden dropped him off yesterday so that I could babysit him. They're doing something with the other Nordics, I believe," he explained when Alfred gave him a blank look, "I'm stuck with the little brat for a week... it hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet and he's already been driving me mad."

"Hey, he's not that bad. Sure, he can be annoying, but he's a kid. Kids are cute and annoying, it's just what they are. Except for me... I was never annoying."  
>Arthur cocked his eyebrow. He wanted to believe that Alfred was always annoying, but a part of him knew that as a child, Alfred was the sweetest thing ever (not that he would ever admit it). Oh, how times change...<p>

"Besides, he just wants to be treated as an equal. I know what that feels like..." Alfred said as he looked away from Arthur.

"Yes, well... he isn't a country. It's different with you and the others, you're all real countries. He just likes to think he is." England stated and opened the door to his study. Arthur and Alfred stepped inside.

"But maybe he could be, one day..."

Arthur gave him an incredulous look. "Sealand? A country? That's prepostorous."

"Alright, it is a bit ridiculous, but hey, the kid has dreams and ambitions. Who are we to crush them?"

"I have no qualms against having dreams and ambitions, however it does become a problem when he somehow manages to sneak into meetings and starts yelling that he's a nation and ought to be respected and treated like one and all that rubbish."

"You're sorta right. It is sometimes frustrating."

Arthur hummed in agreement.

"Right, well, enough about that. What was it that you wanted to tell me?" Arthur asked as he sat down on his swivel chair behind his desk. Alfred suddenly grinned.

"Iggy... as you very well know, it's gonna be my birthday in two weeks..." Alfred beamed and Arthur groaned.

"Did you really need to remind me?"

Alfred ignored Arthur's comment, "This year, it's gunna be real special! However..." a sad-looking expression came across Alfred's face, "Every year ever since... my idependence..."

Arthur tensed.

"You've never visited me on my birthday. This year, though, I would like to invite you to my birthday party."

Silence.

"_This _was the important thing that you had to tell me about?"

"I'm not finished. My boss agrees with me and thinks that it will... help our relations. He's gonna visit your boss tomorrow-"

"WHAT!? Why the bloody hell wasn't I informed about this?!" Arthur demanded.

"Our bosses thought it would be better if you heard it from me. If the other nations see you at my birthday party, they'll think that we're friends-"

"But we're not."

"I know that! It would be completely ridiculous if we were. However, it would be awesome if everyone else thought we were and-"

"Let me interrupt you there for a moment. If the whole world believed us to be `friends´, we'd have to act as if we were in public."

Alfred stared at him, "Well, yeah, that's kinda the point-"

"Alfred. We spend most of our time in public. Well, you do anyway," Arthur said bitterly, "We'd have to be acting almost all the time."

Alfred stopped and looked as if he was actually thinking for once. "I know that. But my boss... well, he wants to be allies with your boss-"

"They already are!"

"I know, but he wants to be... friends," Alfred gulped. "You think I actually like the idea?"

"You seem to act like you do..."

"Listen, I want you to come to my birthday party, but not to strengthen our relations; simply so that everyone can have a good time. You know, I invited the whole world." Alfred said proudly, puffing his chest.

"The whole world?"

"Well, not Russia, obviously... or Cuba... or North Korea... or Syria... and Afghanistan isn't invited, either-"

"Alright, I get it, I get it! If my boss wants me to go to your stupid party, then I'll go!" England exclaimed. Alfred froze.

"You... you mean it?"

"Of course I bloody mean it... but I'll only go if my boss makes me."

America gaped at his ex-mentor/parental figure/big brother/whatever in shock. Then-

"WOOHOO! ALRIGHT! Iggy's comin' to mah party!" Alfred whooped, "Oh, this is gunna be so much fun!" Alfred rushed over to give Arthur a bone-crushing hug,

"GARGH! Gerroff me, you stupid bloody git!" Arthur snapped and Alfred immediately released him.

"This is great- I gotta tell everyone-"

"What?! NO! America, don't you dare, or so help me God, I will-"

A loud slam interrupted Arthur and the nation realised that Alfred had already left. Growling, he sprinted out of the stairs and sprinted downstairs (he would normally never do such a thing and hated it when people would run down the stairs). He saw Alfred at the front door.

"HEY! You tell anyone about this-!"

"Oh come on, Iggy! They're gonna find out anyway!"

"I don't care, I don't bloody care!" Arthur shouted, "Even though I have agreed to this absymal plan of yours, this by no means mean that we are friends!"

"Friends? Ha! Not on your life, sucker!" Alfred poked his tongue out at Arthur childishly before taking off. Arthur shook his head before going back to his study.

XXXXX

Peter scowled. Stupid England and America... always telling him what to do. Why couldn't anyone just be nice to him? He was usually rather cheerful and didn't normally care if people pointed out that he wasn't a country. But staying over at England's house was simply dreadful. Sure, he sometimes dropped by once in a while (much to the annoyance of Arthur), but that was mostly just to annoy Arthur. He hadn't lived with him in a long, long time. True, it was only for a week, but a week was a long time in Peter's mind.

Peter aimlessly strolled outside in Arthur's beautiful gardens and looked up. Such a beautiful, clear blue sky...

Then something caught the micronation's attention. From the corner of his eye, he could see a high-up window. Peter realised that this was the window of that mysterious room that Arthur refused to let Peter in. He was bored and slightly angry, so Peter decided to do possibly the stupidest thing possible in this situation; climb up to the window. Peter saw a tall oak tree a few metres away from the window and decided that he should probably climb from that first. The boy walked over to the tree and grabbed a branch before pulling himself up. He started climbing the tree. His hands hurt a little, but Peter didn't care.

Peter reached up for a branch and slipped on the branch that was underneath his feet. Fortunately, he caught the branch that he had been reaching up for. In the nick of time He gripped it tightly and resumed climbing. Eventually he reached a branch that was level with the window, but he was too busy panting to notice. He stopped and stared at it for a while. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and started moving along the branch that was level with the window. With every step he took, the branch would crackle underneath him and tilt.

Peter continued walking along the branch, arms spread out to balance him. He could see that he was quite near the window now; he could probably jump from the branch. The thought excited the child and he quickly took a step forward. The branch snapped and Peter made a noise between a scream and a yelp. He fell on the ground and lay motionless. The wind had been completely knocked out of him. His vision was starting to get hazy and the beautiful, clear blue sky was just a blue blur. Then everything went black.

**A/N: Oh, Sealand, that was very stupid of you! I apologise for posting this chapter so late, I really did mean to post it earlier. I also apologise for the rubbish ending. Also, I'm sorry if any of the characters are too OOC. Anyway, about England's "light sleeper" thing... I just watched the episode where he falls asleep in the middle of the meeting and the allies consider waking him up, and I just think that England doesn't get enough sleep. He's probably too busy talking to those mythical creatures of his :). I also apologise for any spelling mistakes I may have made. I did check, but I'm a bit sleepy write now. So what did you guys think? Good? Bad? You tell me in that lovely review of yours ;)!**


	3. Give It Time

**A/N: Holy moley! It's been almost a month since I last updated. Because I am so dreadfully late, I decided to post another chapter ASAP. I have to be honest, I don't really like this chapter and I'm already writing the next one (which is much more fun to write, to be honest). I just felt that I had to update soon, y'know? So there's another author's note at the end (oh, the horror!), but that's just there to, um, explain a few more things. Please review, constructive critcism is welcome. :)**

**Chapter Three**

Peter groaned as he finally opened his eyes. He looked up at the sky, which had turned a grey-ish colour. He attempted to sit up, but his back was aching and he gently lay back down. There was a throbbing pain in his upper body, but he couldn't even feel the lower part. Tears were starting to form in the micronation's eyes. His back hurt so much...

He hated to admit it, but he needed help. So Peter did something that no one could do better... he wailed as loud as he could. He hoped that someone would come for him... hell, at this point, he wouldn't even mind if that jerk England found him. He just wanted the pain to stop.

Peter was relieved when he could hear footsteps coming his way. Finally, someone had found him! However his happiness was short-lived when he realised that these footsteps were incredibly light and saw... a cat. In fact, it so happened to be the same cat that he had seen yesterday. Peter had the sudden urge to let out another wail. What could a cat do to help him?

The cat crept closer to Peter and lay down on the crook of his neck, rubbing its fluffy head on Peter's face. Peter let out a strangled sort of noise. He hissed a little when the cat moved onto his shoulder. The cat made itself comfortable and Peter let out a very loud yelp. The cat seemed surprisingly unfazed, so Peter started wriggling about, startling the cat. The startled cat hissed and got up, walking away and leaving him all alone. Peter hadn't meant to scare the cat away, but it had hurt terribly when the cat had been lying down on him. In fact, it still hurt a lot.

He gazed back up at the sky and a drop of water fell on his face. It started raining and Peter let out a sob. He was hurt, he couldn't move, and to top it all off, it was raining.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Arthur smiled as he poured himself a cup of tea. He had finally finished all his paper work for the day. Now, he could just relax and enjoy the comforting silence that his home offered. Just as those thoughts ran through his head, he heard a muffled wail. Arthur frowned, pausing, but he eventually shook it off. It was probably the wind or something.

Arthur leaned back in his swivel chair and held the warm cup of tea close to his lips. He inhaled the scent and started quietly sipping the tea. Arthur heard a yell and he jamp, spilling tea all over his trousers. Glaring daggers at his soaked trousers and muttering curses under his breath, the ex-Empire grabbed a tissue from the tissue box and started wiping his trousers furiously. When he was done, he picked up his tea cup once more and finished it. He leaned back and observed his now dry trousers in disgust. What the hell had that yell been all about? Either he was just imagining things (which was highly unlikely) or his dear little pest of a brother was up to no good. Arthur would bet that it was the latter.

He closed his eyes and heard a pitter patter. He turned around in his swivel chair to look out of the enormous glass window. It was raining... again. Sighing, England decided to change his trousers. He left his beloved study and was about to enter one of the many bathrooms that he owned when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head to the side and his eyes widened in shock. Right in front of him was a cat, just sitting in the middle of the hallway and staring at him. Arthur recognised the cat immediately.

Arthur growled and marched towards the cat. When the cat didn't scamper, he had the sudden urge to kick it.

"Leave, you stupid cat!"

The cat stood up and turned around, walking too slowly for Arthur's liking. Arthur decided to follow it. After all, he had no idea where the cat had come from and he needed to make sure that it got out of his house. When the cat was about to enter another room, Arthur grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and lifted it up before putting as much distance between the two as he could. Arthur didn't generally hate cats, however, for some reason, he absolutely loathed this one. It pissed him off to no end.

When he got to the front door, he threw the cat out. The cat didn't even make a sound and landed on its feet. It stared at him. However, it was still raining outside and the cat hissed, starting to get wet and tried to run back inside. Arthur slammed the door before it got the chance.

Arthur turned to head back to the bathroom when he heard someone bawling like a baby. Despite how big the mansion was, the walls were very thin in this house. It could be a curse and a blessing. Arthur stared at the front door in shock. Was it the cat that was bawling? No, that was absolutely absurd. Cats couldn't cry... well, not like that anyway. However, the noise did sound like it came from outside. Arthur wondered if one of his citizens had somehow found their way here. Curious, the nation opened the door and, to his astonishment and irritation, saw that the cat was still sitting there. Arthur looked up at the sky. It was still raining and the cat somehow seemed to have grown accustomed to it.

The cat stared at Arthur expectantly. It got up and walked away. Pfft. Good riddance. Arthur was about to close the door when the cat came back. It seemed to be jerking its head to the side, as if wanting Arthur to follow it. Arthur rolled his eyes and was about to shut the door once more before another wail broke out. It was louder and sounded closer this time. The cat had started to walk away. Brows furrowing, Arthur decided to follow it.

Arthur walked out in the rain, unfazed by it. If it were someone else, he would have thought that they were insane for going out in the pouring rain with nothing but a sweater and light grey trousers on. However, he wasn't someone else, and he was used to the rain. He didn't need an umbrella.

England noticed that the crying hadn't stopped and had increased in volume. He headed towards the source of the noise, all the while following that stupid cat, and found himself near the huge tree at the back of the house. However, what caught his attention was the figure of a little boy lying on the ground, crying in pain.

Arthur managed to refrain from gasping and ran towards his little brother. He tried to conceal his worry for Peter and put an arm around the micronation. He heaved the boy up none-too gently in his haste to get back inside, causing Sealand to let out a sharp gasp. Arthur didn't apologise, instead trying to get inside the house as fast as he could.

Arthur barged inside and ran to the closest room. He lay Sealand down in the drawing room on a sofa. He managed to get Peter's shirt off and turned him to the side to examine his back. England's jaw clenched at what he saw.

"Bloody hell, Peter..."

Although Peter only looked slightly injured at the front, one could clearly see huge, giant red and purple bruises on his back. Arthur lightly ran a gentle hand over a few of them and Peter winced. Arthur withdrew the hand and a completely lost expression found its way on his face.

Arthur didn't know what to do. He obviously couldn't take Peter to a hospital, because those were for humans and some people may get extremely suspicious at the rate he would undoubtedly be recovering in.

Arthur ran a hand through his blond locks and stared out of the window.

Maybe it was just best to make Peter more comfortable (if possible) and to leave him be. It definitely looked bad and if Arthur were to take a hazard guess, he'd say that Peter must have suffered a great fall.

Perhaps there was no need to worry, though. It wasn't like it was permanent. Peter would probably recover in a day or two. Unless... Arthur's eyes widened. Unless if there was something wrong with his strange little metal platform thing... if there was something wrong with Sealand.

"Ar...th...ur..." Peter groaned, trying to get his brother's attention. Arthur's head snapped around to face him.

"What is it, Peter?" Arthur asked, keeping the worry out of his voice. It would do no good for Peter to show him how he really felt. Besides, Peter would probably be fine tomorrow, and then Peter would revert back to the useless, good-for-nothing, arrogant brat that he was.

"...hurts..." Peter looked up at Arthur. He hated himself for doing this; for appearing weak in front of his stupid big brother. He was the Almighty Sealand; he did not beg, did not plead, did not need any help. But he was also Peter... a little boy who had the same dream as many little boys did: to become the most powerful country in the world.

Arthur's eyes softened the tiniest bit but his face remained impassive. He looked down at his little brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know, Peter, but there's nothing I can do," Arthur paused, looking as if he wanted to say something else, "Peter, does this have anything to do with your, erm, metal platform?"

Peter scrunched up his nose and his eyes screwed in confusion, "Metal platform?"

Before Arthur could say anything else, Peter slapped his forehead. He then winced at the pain of moving his arm.

"You mean... me, right? Sealand? 'Cause I'm a country and all," Peter said. Arthur nodded, choosing to ignore that little `I'm a country´ comment. "Well... no. It's nothing... internal or anything. I just... fell."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "You fell?"

"Yes..." Peter averted his eyes.

Arthur rolled his eyes. He knew that there was something more to it, but right now, he just couldn't bring himself to care. Peter had probably just been his usual idiot self and done something stupid. Hardly out of the ordinary.

"So... what are you going to do?" Peter asked innocently, which caused Arthur to frown suspiciously.

"What do you mean?"

"Well... I'm kind of injure right now and... are you going to help me?" Peter's voice was so sickly sweet that it would probably give Arthur diabetes. Peter was trying too hard.

"If I can," Arthur replied, "But like I said, there's nothing I can do... at least, not at the moment. It would be best if you just got some rest."

Peter didn't look too happy with that answer and for once, Arthur didn't blame him. That was a pretty pathetic thing to say, but really, what could he do? He wasn't a doctor or a healer or anything. Their best bet was to just wait.

"Do you think you can move again, or do you want to stay here?"

"I think I'll stay here." Peter spoke softly. Arthur nodded and stood up.

"I'll get you some blankets and some water then, shall I?"

Arthur didn't wait for a reply and took off. Peter turned his head to face the giant window. It was still pouring with rain out there. In fact, Peter swore that he could hear thunder.

Peter's back ached like hell, but it already felt better than it had before. It seemed that he had already started healing.

Arthur had returned shortly with a glass of water in one hand and blankets draped over his other arm. He set the glass down on the little tea table (yes, tea table... Arthur would never call those things coffee tables...). Arthur handed the blankets over to Peter, who gladly accepted them. He wrapped the blankets around his body. He hadn't realised just how cold he was. He had somehow forgotten that he was soaking wet, probably because he had been too busy focusing on the pain.

"Er... England? Should I take a shower?" Peter asked.

"...Why? You're injured." Arthur stated plainly.

"I-I know that. But... I smell..."

Arthur blinked, "Sealand, you always smell."

Peter threw him a withering glare that seemed to have no effect whatsoever on his brother, "I'm... cold."

Arthur took a good long look at him, then gasped.

"Peter, you're soaking!"

Peter rolled his eyes, "I can see that, thanks."

"You must be freezing!"

"That's what I just said, you idiot."

"Alright, alright, no need to get snappy." Arthur threw Peter a glare of his own. Peter huffed and stuck his nose up in the air.

"Heh, you going blind with your old age? You didn't even notice that I was wet."

_Okay... that sounded so wrong, _Peter thought. What a sick minded little boy he was.

"You're right, I didn't notice. I was too busy trying to help you. My mistake. Next time, I'll just get a towel and dump it over your head then, shall I?

"Yeah, `helping´. You got me some blankets and water, then you tell me I should just sleep it off. You should get the brother of the year award." Peter said, words dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey! You ought to be grateful! I was the one who had to haul your fat arse inside."

"I'm not fat, you dick."

"Don't call me that, Sealand. You shouldn't call your elders names... you git." Arthur reprimanded, completely ignoring what Peter said, because he knew it was the truth. Not the thing about him being fat... because Peter was one heavy little brat. However, England knew that he wasn't much help, but still, he was trying and the little snot should at least appreciate what he was trying to do. Peter managed to raise an eyebrow.

"Does that count for you too?"

"Of course not. I can do whatever I bloody please."

"Then why can't I?"

"Because you're an annoying waste of space, that's why."

"Yeah, well you're a jerk."

"You know, you really are a brat through and through."

"I am not a brat! I am the mighty Sealand and one day, I will-"

"Oh, don't start with that rubbish again."

"It's not rubbish! It's the truth!"

"Oh please, Sealand. Don't make me laugh."

"You're a stupid jerk, England."

"Little prick."

"Dickhead."

"Bloody git."

"Bitch."

"Ignoramus."

"Ha ha! That isn't even a word!" Peter laughed and Arthur resisted the urge to hit him over the head.

"You're such an insufferable imbecile!"

"Pfft, I'm not the one who's making words up."

"Ignoramus is a word, you moron! Besides, even if it wasn't, the English language is mine, so I can say whatever I want!"

Peter imitated him in a high-pitched girly voice.

"Why you little shit-"

"Language, England." Sealand smirked, enjoying the look of anger on England's face. My my, his brother really didn't know how to control his temper, "You shouldn't swear at your elders."

"You're not my elder, you bloody git!"

"Wait, so you get to call me names, but I can't call you any? That's unfair!"

"That's life, princess."

"Don't call me that, you jerk, or I swear, I will BEAT YOU UP!"

"Ooh, I'm so scared. The little non-nation is angry. Like I care."

Peter simply threw England a filthy look before turning his back to him. He was still cold and wet. He shivered under the blankets. Hopefully Arthur would just leave now. He had already riled him up enough times today, hadn't he? Besides, Peter wasn't in the mood to argue anymore. All he wanted to do was sleep. To Peter's relief, he heard footsteps leaving the room. Good. Sealand closed his eyes and tried not to wince as his shoulders continued to throb. He didn't even hear his brother come back in, so naturally, he was startled when his brother gently touched Peter's arm.

Arthur was leaning over him, bandages in hand as he started to remove the blankets. Arthur picked up a towel that had been lying on the other end of the sofa (Peter swore that it hadn't been there before) and started to dry his brother off. He did it quickly and without taking Peter's current health into consideration.

"Ow!" Peter exclaimed when Arthur ran the towel over a particularly sore spot on his shoulder. Arthur then started drying Peter's hair, which was almost dry be now anyway. Peter scowled at him.

"What are you doing?" Peter demanded.

"What does it bloody look like I'm doing?" Arthur said snappishly, "I'm helping."

Peter cocked an eyebrow but remained silent.

When Arthur seemed to be done, he said, "Lie on your stomach, please."

"Why?"

"Just do it."  
>Grumbling, Peter obeyed. He buried his head in his arms when he felt some sort of liquid being poured onto his back. "What the hell?"<p>

"Be quiet, Peter."

"What are you doing back there?" Peter asked as he twisted his head to look around at Arthur only to have a hand grab the back of his head and shove his face back down.

"Don't look."

Peter was about to object when another jolt of pain shot through his back. He yelped as the liquid (or whatever it was) began to sting, "Arthur, wha-?"

"It's just something to ease the pain, Peter."

"Ease the pain?" Peter echoed, "It's making it worse!"

Arthur didn't answer. He pulled out the rolls of bandages and started wrapping some around Peter's waist and back. He had some difficulty getting it around the midriff, but luckily Peter wasn't throwing some pathetic little hissy fit just yet.

Once Peter's torso and shoulders were completely wrapped in bandages, Peter was finally allowed to sit up. His back still stung, but it was a little better than it was before. Peter thanked whatever almighty divine there was that he wasn't a mortal, or else he would surely have ended up with broken bones. That had been quite the fall!

"Alright, I think we're done here for now. You should probably get to bed now." Arthur said. Peter nodded and tried to lift himself off the sofa but winced; the pain had lessened, certainly, but it was still there.

Arthur took Peter's arm and flung it over his shoulders. He hoisted his little brother up and helped him out of the room. The brothers slowly climbed the stairs and when they reached the top, Peter wanted nothing more than to break the strangely uncomfortable silence.

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"What was that meeting with America all about?" Peter asked. He had been curious even before America and England had sent him on his way.

"Oh, nothing important." Arthur replied simply. Peter pursed his lips.

"If it was nothing important, why did you guys kick me out?"

"Because I thought that it would be important. Turns out it wasn't."

Peter wasn't completely satisfied, but then again, he never was.

The two reached Sealand's bedroom and England slowly helped his brother lie down on the bed. Peter yawned a little and looked at his window. It was still raining.

"Well, I'd best take a shower," Arthur said. At his little brother's questioning look, he added, "I had a little accident earlier."

Peter's thick, bushy eyebrows shot up.

"Try to get some rest." Arthur said before turning away and heading out.

"Wait!" Peter called out before his brother could leave. He heard a sigh and his brother re-entered the room.

"What is it, Sealand?"

"I just wanted to say..." Peter gulped loudly, as if dreading what he was about to say next, "t..t-t-t..." Peter stuttered, having difficulty saying whatever he was about to say, "T-th-an...k...y-you." Peter grimaced, as if saying the words hurt him.

Arthur's face softened a little, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Could you repeat that?" Arthur lied.

"T..tha- you know what? Screw this. Just get out of my room." Peter said in exasperation and irritation. Arthur smirked.

"Hope you have bad dreams, pest."

"Yeah, yeah, just get out already."

And with that, Arthur left his little brother alone to (hopefully) get some sleep.

**A/N: OK, like I said earlier on, I'm not happy with this chapter at all and I know that it was probably worse than what you expected it to be and for that, I apologise. Also, it's been almost a month since I updated and this is the rubbish that you get, so... double the apologies. I feel that the strange little banter/argument bit escalated way too quickly and was badly executed, but then again, it is England and Sealand and they do get into arguments over the most ridiculous things. Oh! Don't know if anyone noticed it (as this was really a teeny tiny thing), but when it said that Arthur didn't need an umbrella, I was kind of referring to his character song. If you haven't already listened to it, you should. It's mad catchy. Anyway, I hope that you still decide to stick around. I quite like the idea, but I do have difficulty writing stuff like this sometimes so if you have any constructive critcism you can give me, please feel free to do so (but please do it in a nice way). Thank-you.**


	4. I Wanna Go Home

**Chapter Four**

When Sealand woke up the next morning, he was pleased to find that the pain had gone (for the most part, anyway). The bruises were already fading and Peter found himself once again thanking whatever deity there may be for being a nation (not). To Peter's surprise, though, he hadn't woken up late like he normally did; on the contrary, Peter had, for once, woken up rather early.

At any other time, Peter would've just stayed underneath his warm covers for longer than necessary. However, this was not one of those times. Peter knew that he should still be resting, as he had not fully recovered yet, but he just wanted to get up and do something. He reasoned that actually doing something would be a waste of time, but a strange, foreign wave of energy surged through him, prompting him to get out of bed.

With a sigh, the micronation swung his legs over the edge of his bed and hopped up. His side ached a little as he did so. Groaning, the micronation left the room. He started walking down the corridor but stopped when he walked by England's room and heard voices- or rather, one voice.

"Come now, we must be quiet- hey!"

Pete'rs eyebrows creased into a frown.

"What are you doi- no, stop that!"

Curiosity getting the better of him, Sealand leaned in closer towards the door of England's room.

"Brownie, don't attack Flying Mint Bunny! He didn't do anything to you," there was a pause, "What's that? Brownie, you shouldn't tell lies. I- no, no, no, stop it! Unicorn, stop him!"

Peter stared at the door. Oh. So Arthur was just talking to his imaginary friends... again. Peter wondered why England had imaginary friends to begin with. True, he had no friends anyway... but still. Almost everyone in Sealand's family could see mythical creatures and use magic. Sealand was probably the only one out of his crazy, messed up family to **not** be completely insane.

"Unicorn, wha-? NO, DON'T ATTACK ME! PIXIE! HELPPPPPPP!" Arthur screamed, causing Peter to flinch. Sheesh. His brother seriously needed to stop taking whatever drugs he was on. Sighing, Peter decided to move on. He went downstairs for breakfast and entered the kitchen. As soon as he entered, he yelped loudly as something seemed to touch his shoulder. His head whirled around and what felt like a hand rested on his shoulder. He shivered under it and manged to jerk his shoulder away. Something seemed to be moving. He looked around and started backing out of the room.

There was some unholy presence there. It was as if there was a ghost... but, ghosts weren't real. Arthur always told him that they weren't. Then again, what did Arthur know? He had imaginary friends. America had told him about ghosts before, but Peter wasn't sure if he ought to believe him. Alfred claimed that he had an alien friend named Tony and that, during most international meetings, there was always a ghost that always lingered nearby. Peter had called him an idiot after that. Ghosts weren't real, he had told himself. He had been certain of it before, but now... now he wasn't so sure...

Something brushed against his head and he let out a piercing scream. He ran out of the room, looking behind him as he did so and bumped into something. There was a yell and Peter fell on the floor, landing on his brother.

Arthur scowled up at Peter, "What the bloody hell did you run into me for?"

"I- I wasn't-" Peter stuttered before pausing. He looked down at his brother. Peter's face contorted into disgust and he stood back up, wiping his pajama top, "Ew! Gross! I've got English germs on me now!"

England scowled, "Sealand, you are English-"

"No I'm not!"

"Sealand-"

"La la la, not listening!" he exclaimed, covering his ears. Arthur stood back up and sighed, before starting to scrutinise him.

"What are you doing running about in my house anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm hiding from the ghost!" Peter said, nervously glancing left and right.

Arthur blinked and stared at Peter incredously, "Ghost? Ghosts don't exist-"  
>"Yes they do! There was one in the kitchen just now!"<p>

"Come now, Peter, don't be ridiculous-"

"I know there was something in the kitchen, Arthur! Besides, America would agree with me- he knows that ghosts exist too!"

"Peter, just because that idiot says that there are ghosts doesn't mean there are. From the looks of it, you've been spending way too much time with him."

"England, the only time I've ever spoken to him alone was when he told me about ghosts-"  
>"They don't exist, Sealand. Now get back to the kitchen and I'll fix you some breakfast."<p>

Peter's eyes widened fearfully, "NO! I'm not going back there and you shouldn't go either! There's something evil in there..." Peter lower lip seemed to tremble.

Arthur frowned. What might have been a flicker of concern flashed through his eyes, although Peter couldn't tell, as it was gone as soon as it had come, "Peter, are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright! There's a ghost in there!"

Arthur stayed silent for a moment. "Peter, I'm really starting to question your sanity."

Peter glared at him. **His** sanity? If anyone was insane, it was Arthur. Speaking to non-existent fairy creatures and talking about stuff like _magic_. Peter was about to point this out when Arthur started speaking again, "You know what? You can stay here if you want. I'm going to get some breakfast."

Arthur started heading towards the kitchen.

"Fine! When you're dead, don't say I didn't warn you!" Peter yelled after him. His brother didn't even acknowledge him and Peter felt his heart drop as he saw Arthur entering the kitchen. A loud yelp was heard and Peter's heart started pounding. "ARTHUR! GET OUT OF THERE!"

He raced towards the kitchen only to find that his brother was not in any danger. He was staring at something in front of him.

"America?" England asked and sure enough, America was standing right in front of them. He seemed a little... different though. His eyes seemed to be violet, his hair was lighter, longer and more wavy, instead of a cowlick he had an ahodge, and in his arms was what looked like a polar bear. England stared at America, "What are you doing here?"

"I-I'm not America..."

Both England and Sealand stared at him doubtfully.

"I-I'm Canada."

There was a long, awkward silence.

"Who?" England and Sealand asked simultaneously.

"Canada!" the America-look-a-like exclaimed.

"What's a `Canada´?" Peter asked.

"Me. I'm Canada. T-the guy who y-you pretend to be at the w-world c-conferences," the so-called Canada said and turned to face Arthur with a sad look on his face, "It's me. Matthew. You partly raised me."

Arthur simply stared at the shy nation and groaned.

"That's right! Sorry, Canadia, I'm awfully tired this morning. Of course I knew it was you," England gave an awkward laugh. No one laughed with him. The former Empire cleared his throat, "Won't you sit down and have something to eat?"

"I-I'm afraid I d-don't have t-time. I only c-came by to give you s-something." Canada's voice was soft and barely audible. Peter had to strain to hear every word that he was saying.

"Oh. I see. Well, what is it that you have for me?"

"This." Canada took something out from his coat pocket and handed a letter over to Arthur.

"What is this?" Arthur asked as he took the letter.

"I-it's an invitation, sir. F-for my brother's birthday p-party..."

Arthur scowled, "I don't need it," Arthur said coolly, "Your brother already invited me in person. Is there anything else? Or are you just here to waste my time?"

Both Sealand and Canada winced at England's tone.

"Actually t-there is something else." Canada whispered and handed the eldest nation present yet another letter. Arthur took it, opened it and read it. His abnormally large eyebrows creased into a frown and they shot up once he had finished reading.

"I-Is this some sort of joke?"

"I-it's not a j-joke! It's serious. You need to b-be there."

Arthur eyed his former charge/ward/brother before giving off a nod.

"Of course. Just out of curiousity, who gave you this?" Arthur waved the letter around.

"A-America. He told me to give it to you..."

"Too lazy to do it himself, was he?"

"H-he's got a lot going on... what with his b-big party-"

"Yes, the party," England interrupted dryly, "Speaking of which, will you be attending?"

Matthew didn't answer; his eyes were fixed on the floor.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I-I have to. I'm his brother." Canada said apologetically.

Arthur sighed, "Well, nevermind that now. I only wonder why I wasn't informed about this before." Arthur inclined his head towards the letter.

"It was a bit last-minute."

"So it seems," Arthur walked over to the cupboards and grabbed a box of cereal. He turned to his youngest brother, "Peter, have some breakfast."

Peter, who had been mostly ignored during the whole exchange, was surprised that his big brother was actually letting him eat cereal, "Really? I can?"

"They're there for a reason, lad. Besides, a little treat once in a while can't hurt." Arthur smiled sweetly at Peter. Peter stared at him with wide eyes. Arthur was being nice... to him? Sure, Arthur hadn't been so bad yesterday, but that was because Peter had been injured, and Arthur was never nice to him unless...

Peter's eyes narrowed slightly. Arthur obviously wanted something from him. He went to the fridge and got some milk, grabbed a bowl and a spoon and sat down at the table. He grabbed the cereal box and poured the cereal into his bowl. He then added milk. His eyes never left his brother as he did so.

Arthur and Matthew looked on as Peter ate in silence. When he was finished, Arthur cleared his throat.

"Peter... do you mind giving us a moment? I'd like to have a word with Canadia for a moment."

Peter dropped his spoon in his bowl with a clatter. He sat up straight and sighed, "This is about something important, isn't it?"

His brother did not reply.

"Could I... just this once.. can't I just be a part of whatever it is?" Peter asked, surprised at how nicely he was asking this. It was probably just because Arthur had helped him out a bit yesterday. This strange kindness would wear off soon enough.

Arthur looked at him with tired eyes, "No. I'm sorry, Peter, but this has nothing to do with you."

"If I just-"

"This is none of your concern, Sealand."

"But-"

"Put your bowl into the dishwasher and get dressed." England ordered, interrupting Sealand. Peter's jaw clenched and he scowled.

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said no." Peter said firmly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Matthew fidgeting a little.

"Peter," a scary fake smile was plastered on England's face, "That wasn't a request."

Peter glared at Arthur. The two seemed to be locked in some kind of heated staring competition, with Matthew standing awkwardly behind them. Peter stood up abruptly and left without putting away his things. He stomped upstairs and headed towards his bedroom. Stupid England. Why wasn't he ever allowed to be included in those conversations? He was a nation too! He had as much right to know these kind of things as everyone else did. Peter got dressed and huffed as he plopped down on his bed.

What to do? England would be busy with what's-his-face and Peter couldn't risk trying to sneak into that stupid locked room again. Perhaps if he listened in on his brother's conversation? A mischevious smile found its way on Peter's little face. Yes, that seemed like a fine idea. It wasn't like he couldn't handle whatever they were talking about. Besides, he had a right to know what was going on, even if it was something as small as a tiny storm half-way across the world. It was always his right to know. No one had the right to keep him in the dark. Blowing a stray strand of hair from his face, Peter decided that when he became Supreme Dark Overlord, no one would ever undermine his authority again.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

Arthur's face was blank as he watched Peter stomp out of the kitchen. The country then turned his gaze onto his other brother.

"Why is this happening?" he asked suddenly, getting straight to the point.

"I d-don't know," Matthew said softly, "Apparently, Ludwig, Ivan and Francis set this m-meeting up. They want the meeting as soon as possible. M-must be important."

Arthur's bushy eyebrows knitted in confusion, "France? Working with Russia and Germany?!"

"D-don't act so surprised. Germany and France's relationship has been getting better..."  
>"Yes, but <strong>Russia<strong>?"

Matthew sighed, "I don't know much about it either. All I know is that those t-three opted to hold the c-conference meeting a fortnight earlier than it should have been... maple. I can't b-believe that it's only two w-weeks away from now..."

"It better be damn important."

"I have no doubt that it is. Papa w-wouldn't just change the date so suddenly if it wasn't."  
>"I wouldn't be so sure. I wouldn't put it past that bloody frog to do something like this simply for his own amusement."<p>

Canada shook his head with a small smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as it had come, "Do... do you think that something's wrong?"

"There had better be something wrong," England grumbled, "Or else it would just be a waste of my time."

Canada's eyes were drawn to the large clock facing opposite him, "Well, I'd better go. After all, I'm p-pretty busy myself."

"Of course. Good-bye then, Matthew. I'll see you soon." England bid him farewell and the younger nation departed. Arthur stared at the letter in his right hand. Sighing, he slid it back inside the envelope and got up to leave. As he left, he almost bumped into something.

"Sealand! What the bloody hell are you doing!?" Arthur demanded.

"N-nothing!" Peter yelled back. Arthur narrowed his emerald eyes in suspicioun at his brother.

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"NO! Besides, it's none of your business even if I was... which I wasn't!"

"Peter..." Arthur groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's not like it was anything important. You barely said anything at all! Just something about some dumb meeting- HEY!"

Arthur had grabbed Peter's arms and was squeezing them tightly, "I don't know what Berwald's been teaching you, but in my house, you will abide by my rules. You do not, under any circumstances, eavesdrop on any of my conversations. Are we clear?"

"But this was just about some stupid change in the date of the meeting-!"

"It matters not! It matters not what my conversations are about!"

"OK, OK, chill. I won't do it again," Peter lied, "But like I said, it wasn't even important. Nothing extraordinary's happened or-"  
>"We don't know that for sure. Something must have happened, or else they wouldn't have changed the date in such short notice. Clearly, you don't understand the gravity of the situation."<p>

"What? It was just eavesdropping, you're blowing this way out of proportion-"

"Not that, you idiot! If the date of an international meeting is changed, that means something **very** important has happened. Think about it for a second; when our bosses set a date for us to meet, that means that it is fixed. Nothing can change it **unless** something has happened or the majority of the countries attending the meeting have opted to change the date. I expected a nation wanna-be such as yourself would at least know this."

"I AM NOT A NATION WANNA-BE! I AM SEALAND AND ONE DAY I WILL RULE OVER YOU- AIYAH!"

"Lower your voice, you imbecile, you're going to give me a migraine!" England seethed.

"Good! That should teach you not to mess with me! Oh, how I look forward to day when you bow down at me feet~"

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"One day, you'll know what it's like! To have to follow orders, to have to do stupid, pointless chores, to be forced against your will to be a slave to someone else, to-"

"Sealand, for the love of God, shut up. I am so sick and tired of listening to your whining! You are not a nation, for crying out loud! Stop trying to act like one!"

"And I'm sick of you trying to put me down! I am a nation! You're just too afraid to admit it! You're too afraid to admit that one day, I'll be bigger than you ever were!"

Arthur barked a laugh, "Oh, is that so? You, the simple little metal platform, an empire? I doubt that very much, you pest!"

"PEST?!"

"Yes, Sealand, pest. Do you not know the meaning of the word? I'm not surprised. My, you really are an idiotic, silly little _micronation_. Ha, micronation! The very word makes me laugh. Tell me, do you even realise how utterly useless those like you are?"

"How dare you call me useless, you foul-!"

"But you are useless."

"No I'm not! I am the world's saviour, I am exactly what this planet needs-"

"You are nothing but a burden to everyone, Sealand, you're just an insufferable brat with a nation complex! You are impolite, you show no respect towards your elders-"

"HA! You hypocrite! You never showed China any respect during the Opium Wars or after!"

"That was different, that was war, Peter. Something that you do not understand!"

"I was **made** by war! I was born during World War II, I know **everything** about war!"

"You ignorant fool. You don't know _anything_ about war. You weren't out in the trenches, fighting, killing, constantly in fear of an enemy attack. You were safe at home-"

"I was a war tool!"

"And that is all you will ever be. You know, you really should treat me with some respect."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because I am the only reason you are alive today, I raised you!"

"And what a fine job you did of that!"

Peter almost wished that he hadn't said that; Arthur looked downright murderous.

"Don't try to blame me for how you turned out! You have only yourself to blame for that! I fed you, took care of you, and this is the thanks I get?!"

"You didn't take care of me! You **used** me, and when I wasn't of use to you anymore, you sold me to the highest bidder!"

"Wrong, Sealand. **You** sold yourself to the highest bidder. To think that you have such low self-esteem that you would _sell _yourself... I am thoroughly disgusted and ashamed to have any connection with you whatsoever."

Peter's eyes shone with unshed tears as the sharp words cut through him like a knife. He was a moment away from his breaking point. Unfortunately for him though, England saw his weakness and verbally attacked him one more time.

"Face it, Sealand... nobody cares about you." England leered. Peter froze at that sentence. He blinked back the tears and threw Arthur the most heated glare he could muster, "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!"

"Good."

"You are so EVIL, England. I was only eavesdropping and then you go and make it such a big deal! I'm glad that I live with Pappa Sweden now. He actually takes care of me, unlike you! I don't regret selling myself one bit. The only thing I regret is coming back to this hell hole!" Peter half-yelled, half-screeched at England before turning on his heel and running far, far away. He ran down the hall and streaked past the back door.

He kept running deep, deep inside the ridiculously large garden and stopped when he ran out of breath. He panted heavily and leaned against a tree. His hands were balled into fists and his jaw was clenched. Damn him! Damn that stupid jerk England! He'd show him. Peter wasn't a useless nobody; he was a soon-to-be empire, damn it, and he should be treated as such! What did England know anyway? He was nothing but a has-been! His centuries of fame came and went and now it was Sealand's time to shine! So what if he was simply an abandoned oil platform? So what if he was just a used war fort? He deserved to be recognised as a country! Him and all his fellow micronations... but especially him!

The other micronations... most of them got what it felt like, but it wasn't the same. Take Wy for example. Even though she wasn't a country, Australia at least acknowledged her as something more than a nuisance; as something a little more than a micronation. As much as Sealand liked Wy, she would always rub it in his face whenever she got the chance.

Peter angrily punched the tree. Some wood cracked off and Peter winced. His hand started throbbing madly and he started shaking it, hoping that the pain would just disappear. He looked back at the tree with a regretful look.

"Sorry." Peter apologised to the tree and gave it a little pat. He stood up straight again before immediately slumping down. The micronation stared off into space as England's words came back to haunt him. _"You are not a nation, for crying out loud! Stop trying to act like one!"_

"_-nothing but a burden to everyone-"_

"_Tell me, do you even realise how utterly useless those like you are?"_

"_I am thoroughly disgusted and ashamed to have any connection with you whatsoever."_

Peter drew his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his hands.

"_-insufferable brat-"_

"_-wanna-be nation-"_

"_You sold yourself to the highest bidder."_

"_Face it, Sealand... nobody cares about you."_

A tear rolled down Peter's cheek and he angrily wiped it away. Why the hell was he crying? This was just stupid Arthur. England called him names all the time. How was this any different?

_Because you know what he says is true..._

Peter stopped breathing; could it be? Could England really be right about everything he had said? Of course, Sealand was obviously a country (no doubt about that), but what about everything else? Was he really that annoying? Did everyone really hate him?

...Nah! He was probably over-analyzing what his jerk-of-a-brother had said. Anyone with a brain loved him. He was just being ridiculous. Peter threw his head back and it banged on the tree. He hissed and rubbed the back of his head. He really shouldnt've done that. He looked up at the sky; it looked like it was going to rain again. It was getting quite cold, too. Peter sighed and decided to head back inside. He pushed himself off the ground and started walking back towards the house. He just hoped that he didn't bump into Arthur.

Once he was inside, he found that he realised that there really was nothing to do. He still had the whole day left (even if it was raining outside) and he was bored out of his mind. He decided to send Raivis a message on Facebook or something. He hadn't spoken to Latvia in a really long time.

Peter dashed upstairs and went into the only room that he had access to that had a computer; England's room. He wasn't actually allowed in his brother's room, but he really needed something to do, so he didn't care that he was forbidden from entering. Sealand started the computer and sat down in the puffy black swivel chair. The computer asked for Arthur's password and Sealand bit his lip; what could it possibly be? He frowned and typed in "Sealand". Incorrect password. So he decided to type in "Peter". Also incorrect. "Sealand is the best". Didn't work. "England is the best country". Incorrect. "America's an idiot". Wrong again. "France sucks". How on earth could that be wrong? "God Save The Queen". OK, something was seriously wrong with this stupid computer, because there was no way that that wasn't England's password.

Peter bit his lip; he tried everything from "Scones are great" to "England's the most powerful nation in the world". Nothing worked. Peter gritted his teeth and tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. He looked around England's room and looked for some kind of clue. There was a flag of the Union Jack behind his bed, a mug that read "World's Best Brother" that lay on his bedside table (England had purchased this for himself; having taken in so many other countries, he had proclaimed himself to be the best brother in the world), photos, paintings and posters of Winston Churchill, Queen Elizabeth II, Queen Victoria, Elizabeth I, the Beatles, Pink Floyd, J.R.R Tolkein, J.K Rowling and other memorable British people covered the walls, and then- Sealand froze. There was a mini statue on a table across the room of a strong woman raising a flag up high, standing tall and proud; Britannia. There were words etched at the bottom of the statue: "The Sun Never Sets on the British Empire".

This gave Sealand an idea. He typed in "The British Empire Lives". Peter whooped when the password seemed to be the correct one. Really, that should have been his first guess. England always romanticised about his glory days; back when he actually meant something. Peter tutted; all former Empires that he had met seemed to always try to live in the past. Britain, Turkey, China, Russia, France, Denmark, Austria... all of them seemed to long for the days when they used to be "omnipotent" (although in a way, Russia still seemed pretty omnipotent to Sealand... he hadn't met him often, but from what he could see and from what Latvia told him, Russia was a pretty scary pyscho).

The screen loaded and Peter got back to the task at hand. He opened "Google Chrome" and typed in "facebook" in the search engine. When the page loaded, he logged in to his account to find that Raivis had sent him a message. He clicked on it and it expanded. It read:

**Peter, I'm not going to be able to talk much. Even though I'm free from Mr. Russia's rule, he's still trying to make me do his work for him. I've tried to explain that I'm no longer obliged to work for him, but he just doesn't seem to listen. He just gave me that creepy smile and now I'm going to hide under my bed and patiently wait for death. I'll be a bit busy this week, but I hope that you have fun :)**

**-Raivis**

Peter huffed. This was so unfair! Now he had no one to talk to! He supposed he ought to try talking to Wy or Seborga (even if Seborga hated his guts). Peter quickly dismissed the idea. Instead, he just updated his status.

**Stayin' with Jerk Ass has proven to be worse than I thought. Ugh! He's so annoying! I wish he would just dieeee :(**

He logged out pretty soon after and shut the computer back down again. Well, that had been all for nothing. Peter went back to his room just in time to hear his Nokia Lumia phone ringing. He grabbed it and answered the call without looking at the caller ID.

"... Hullo?"

"Petteri!" a cheery, bubbly voice over the phone called.

"Peter." Peter automatically corrected, even though his heat leapt with joy at the oh-so-familiar voice.

"...Right. Berwald and I just wanted to call you up and see how you were doing! We've been having such a great time with your uncles, but we really miss you. How are you?"

A brilliant idea came to Peter's mind. If he really tried, he probably might be able to convince his parents to take him home. He'd just make up some bullshit story about England and sound really convincing, and then he wouldn't be so damn bored all the time or annoyed.

"Isä, I want to go home."

"What's wrong?" Finland's tone changed dramatically from excited to worried.

"I don't like it here." Peter sniffed.

"Why not?"

"England's been a real jerk to me-"  
>"Peter-"<p>

"Isä," Peter whimpered, immediately cutting off whatever Tino was about to say, "Arthur hurt me yesterday..."

"Oh, Peter, I'm sure he didn't mean it-"

"He did. He pushed me out of the window because I woke up a bit too late. I tried to apologise, Isä, I really did... but he wouldn't listen to me. I'm so sorry." Peter's voice hitched. There was silence on the other line.

"He what?" Finland's voice was cheery, but Sealand could tell that it was fake.

"He pushed me out of the window..."

"Oh, Sealand, are you alright? Of course you're not," Finland said before Peter could say anything, "This is my fault, I should never have let you stay with your brother. I really hoped that you would get the chance to fix your broken relationship with England, but... oh, I am so sorry, Peter, please forgive me!"  
>"I-it's not your fault, Isä. I... I should have woken up e-earlier," Peter choked back a sob, "Oh, Isä, it hurts!"<p>

"Sealand, I- I don't know what to say..."

"P-please, Iskä... take me home... please."

"Peter, I really wish that I could," Tino spoke softly, his voice tinted with regret, "But the meeting-"

Peter started sobbing a little, "I... d-don't...w-want... to...stay!"

"Peter, rakas, please stop crying!"

Peter continued to sob.

"Alright, alright! I- I'm coming right over. Berwald can pick up my notes at the meeting... or something. Don't worry, I'll be there soon!"

"Oh, thank-you, Isä... thank-you." Peter cried out in relief, his large smile reaching his eyes.

"I'll be there as soon as possible. I-I've got to go now, but I'll talk to you soon, OK?... I love you."

"I love you too, Isä." Peter sniffed and hung up. He wiped away his crocodile tears (they had somehow escaped during his little act) and grinned widely. Excellent. His father was going to pick him up and he was going to be saved! Finally, he could get started on playing the new video game that he recently bought! Oh, joy!

**A/N:...And here we have another lame, long chapter XD. My my, Sealand's taken things a bit too far, dontcha think? I know, I know, Finland totally believed Sealand way too easily (he ought to know better, knowing Peter), but Finland has a big heart (kind of...) and the mere thought of anyone hurting his son will turn him into a mother hen ha ha! Don't worry, though... Berwald will be MUCH harder to convince.**

**I did mean to get this up earlier and I originally wanted to make an amazingly long chapter for Easter, but I've already finished this chapter and should probably put it up now. I've been procrastinating for far too long. I know this probably doesn't live up to your expectations (especially the *little* argument between Peter and Arthur, which I think moved way too quickly), but life's been quite hectic for me lately("Ah, that excuse again")and I haven't had much time to myself (Like you haven't heard that one before). Also, I actually have no idea what happens when the date of an international meeting of sorts is changed, or how it can happen. What I have written in the story is purely fictional :D.**

**Also, in my headcannon, Francis is Matthew's "Papa"... I like to think of Arthur as the "big brother" who raised him once Canada was ceded to Britain.**

**Feedback is much appreciated, so please leave a review. Oh, and one more thing: HAVE A HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE! MAY YOU EAT AS MANY DELICIOUS GOODIES AS YOU LIKE!**


	5. Of Phone Calls and Lies

**Chapter Five**

Two days.

It had been two, horrible, long days of being bossed around by England and of doing his horrible chores since Tino had called him, and he still hadn't heard from him since. Peter had waited as patiently as he could, but this was getting ridiculous. Why hadn't Tino come to pick him up yet? Had he changed his mind? If so, then why hadn't he called?

Peter turned his head to face the window and immediately scoffed at what he saw. His brother was gardening. _Gardening_. How girly. He groaned as he turned away when his phone rang. Grinning widely, he answered it immediately.

"Isä!" he exclaimed without looking at the caller ID.

"H'llo." came the reply and Peter's eyes widened a little.

"Oops. Sorry. Hi, Pappa!"

"Se'l'nd. 'Ow ar' y'u?"

"Oh. I'm fine."

"Re'lly? So y'u're bett'r now?"

Sealand frowned, "...Better?"

"Tino t'ld me y'u had a l'ttle... acc'dent wit' yu'r broder."

Accident? What? What? Wha- oh. Sealand mentally slapped his forehead. How could he have forgotten? He had been so caught up in wondering when Finland would come that he hadn't even thought about his little lie. "Oh yes... that. It hurts so much." Peter moaned.

"Y'u j'st t'ld me y'u wer' fyn."

Had he said that? "Well... I'm better. I said I was fine because...well, I didn't want you to worry."

"Hmm." came the simple reply and Sealand could practically feel Berwald's stony eyes on him.

"Yeah. So... where is Isä? Why hasn't he picked me up yet?"

Sweden didn't answer him. Sealand tried asking another question.

"Is Isä coming to pick me up? Or are you?"

There was silence on the other line and Sealand began to wonder if they had lost the connection.

"I'd l'ke to spe'k to Engl'nd."

Peter blinked, "...What?"

"Engl'nd. I'd l'ke to spe'k to 'im."

Sealand bit his lip, "You can't. He's not inside right now."

Well, that was true. Arthur was outside... _gardening_. The thought of gardening made Peter cringe. Gardening dealt with nature and who needed natural stuff when you were a man-made metal platform of epicness?

"I see. W'en 'e com's ba'k, I'd l'ke to spe'k to 'im."

Peter frowned. Why did he want to speak to that jerk? Did he want to yell at him? Nah, that couldn't be it. Yelling wasn't Sweden's style. Threaten him, maybe? Yeah, that seemed about right.

"Alright..."

"I'll call y'u lat'r. Adjö." Sweden hung up. Sealand placed his phone on his bedside table and stared at it. Shit. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? More to the point... what would England do? England would be pissed at him if he found out about his little lie. He had to prevent England from speaking with Sweden somehow. Question was, how was he going to do that? There were many phones in this house and it wasn't like he could just keep an eye on Arthur at all times. Besides, his father would get suspicious if no one answered his calls. Oh, what to do, what to do?

The sound of a bell ringing snapped Peter out of his thoughts.

"Peter! Lunch time!" Arthur's voice rang out and Peter couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. Lunch! Goodie, he was starving! He immediately bounded off the bed and out of the room before jogging down the stairs. He came to a stop in the kitchen and was greeted by the sight of a burnt lump of steak sitting on a plate on his end of the kitchen table. His shoulders slumped in disappointment. Of course. What had he expected? His brother couldn't cook to save his life. Sighing, the micronation sat down on his chair, a sad look on his face as he eyed the steak.

Arthur came into sight, spots of dirt clearly visible on his sweaty face. He was still wearing his dark green gardening gloves. Had... had he been wearing those when he'd been cooking?

Arthur took the gloves off and wiped his forehead with the back of his hands. He went off to wash his face in the closest bathroom, leaving Peter alone in the large kitchen. Peter stared at the steak suspiciously. He inhaled the smoke and coughed a little. Sheesh, England couldn't do anything right, could he?

The nation in question walked back in the room just as the phone rang. Peter's eyes widened as the phone rang again. Arthur had his hand on the phone and was about to answer it, but Peter was quicker; he zipped out of his chair and rushed towards the phone, grabbing it from Arthur's hand.

"Hello?" he asked tentatively as Arthur frowned at him.

"DUDE!"

Peter winced and held the telephone away from his ear for a while, "What?"

"Iggy, I've got sooo much to tell you! Okay, so Ca- Ca- Canadia, was it? Well anyway, I found out that the guy who looks like me is a total party pooper! He said something about not needing a giant statue of myself at the party. Secretly, though, I think he's just jelly. Don't tell him I said that. So anyway, what've you been doing? I've been calling everyone up, just to see what they're planning for my birthday. France said he's getting me a super cool gift. I'm so excited! I think it's going to be a bunch of strippers! I even called up Spain and according to him, Mexico's decided to crash the party. Normally I would say something like `the more the merrier´, but he _always _comes over and keeps stealing all my jobs and sending immigrants over. It's really annoying. Yeah, so I called up a lot of countries and you just wouldn't believe what China said! He said that he wasn't going to get me anything until I pay him back all the money that I owe him! Pah! What's that old cracker on about? I don't owe him anything! I think his old age has finally gotten to him- much like it has with you! Speaking of you, what are you getting me-?"

Sealand slammed the phone down, ignoring the strange look that Arthur threw in his direction.

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing. It was just your dumb ex-colony."

"I know who it was. That's not what I'm asking here. Why did you snatch the phone out of my hand?"

"I didn't know it was him!"

Arthur sighed; he really didn't feel like arguing right now, "Whatever. Just sit down and eat your lunch."

Sealand sat back down, but did not make another move. His eyes narrowed slightly at the steak. No way was he going to eat that.

"What are you waiting for? The end of the world?"

Peter hadn't even noticed that Arthur had already sat down and started eating. How he could eat that, Peter had no idea. Shaking his head a little, he gently prodded the steak with his fork. He couldn't help but to scrape all of the burnt bits off- unfortunately for him, everything seemed to be burnt.

"Are you going to eat or not?"

Peter's eyes flickered up to meet his brother's before he turned his attention back on the steak, "No."

Even though Peter wasn't looking at him, he could tell that Arthur was scowling. "Fine," Arthur said, "No lunch for you then."

Peter's eyes widened and his head snapped up, "What?"

"You heard me. If you don't eat what's in front of you, you're not going to eat at all."

Sealand gaped at England in disbelief, "But- but I'm hungry!"

"So eat up."

Sealand shot a glance at the horrible food in front of him before looking up to meet his brother's gaze. "I can't; I'm allergic."

"You're a metal platform, Sealand; you don't have allergies."

Peter really hated the way Arthur said `platform´.

"Come on, can't- can't I just have something else? Like ice-cream... and maybe cake?"

England furrowed his bushy eyebrows at him, "You refuse to eat your meal, yet you would ask for pudding?"

"...Yes?"

Arthur heaved a sigh, "Sealand, you either eat what you're given or you don't eat at all. It's your choice."

Sealand bit his lip; on the one hand, England's food looked deadly. But on the other hand, he was starving. He huffed a little. He really didn't want to eat whatever that was. His stomach growled. But damn it, he was hungry! He inhaled deeply and reached out before plunging his fork into the burnt steak. He started cutting it with his knife before putting the small bit of steak to his lips. He looked at England, who looked as if he didn't really care whether or not Sealand ate his food. Peter closed his eyes and forced the piece of steak into his mouth. He chewed on it a little and was a bit surprised that it actually tasted half-way decent... well, by England's standards.

"Hey, this isn't so bad... for you!" he exclaimed without meaning to. England tried to look annoyed, but couldn't help but beam at him. Unfortunately, though, the taste of the steak seemed to change suddenly. Peter's eyes widened as he tried to spit it out. He accidentally swallowed it, but it was too big and dry and it got stuck in his throat. He coughed and hacked as his breaths became more shallow. He hadn't even noticed that England was already behind him, his arms around Peter's abdomen as he performed the Heimlich maneuver. Sealand gasped for breath as a large piece of steak flew out of his mouth and landed on the nice clean floor. England grimaced. Sealand continued coughing a bit as England released his hold on him.

"Are you alright?" England asked, his hand on Sealand's shoulder. Sealand nodded quickly, blinking away the tiny tears of pain that had formed in his eyes. He stared transfixedly at the _thing _that he had just coughed up. It was blackened and had saliva on the outside, but Sealand could clearly see that the inside had things that looked like mould and little white- worms? Grubs? He didn't even know.

"What... the hell... is... that?!" Peter said hoarsely, pointing at the piece of steak that lay on the floor.

"It's steak, Peter."

"N-no. I mean _that_." Sealand said, jerking his head at the mould. England cursed.

"Bugger. It was probably out of date."

Sealand released a strangled high-pitched noise. England raised an eyebrow at him in amusement.

"_Probably_?" Peter exclaimed incredously.

"I've had it in the fridge for a few weeks now. I guess we should've had it yesterday."

Peter continued to stare at his older brother incredously, but didn't say anything.

"Ah, well. No use crying over spilt milk." Arthur said before turning to Sealand, "Pick it up."

Peter blinked, "What?"

"You heard me."

Sealand gave him a semi-pleading look, "Why do I have to pick it up?"

"You're the one who spat it out, it's only fair that you should be the one to pick it up. Get to it."

Grumbling, Sealand walked over to the disgusting thing before kneeling in front of it. He stared at it for a bit before asking, "Can I at least have gloves or something?"

A pair of gardening gloves whooshing by smacked him in the face.

"There."

Peter made a face, "When I asked for gloves, I didn't mean ones with dirt and sweat in them."

Sealand's only response was a glare from England. The micronation sighed before turning his gaze back on the gloves. They would have to do. He put them on and reached out to grab the rotten piece of steak. He winced as he felt it squishing under his touch and picked it up. He stood up, went over to the bin and dumped the piece of steak in it. He took the gardening gloves off and stared down at the bin. That had been truly grotesque. He shuddered before turning away and washing his hands.

"Thank-you, Peter," England said before gesturing towards the rest of the steak, "Would you like some more?"

Peter paled rapidly as his eyes widened. Arthur smirked, "I was just joking."

Sealand let out a sigh of relief before attempting to walk out of the kitchen. The sound of Arthur clearing his throat stopped him in his tracks.

"Where are you going?"

"Out of the kitchen."

"Sit back down, you haven't been dismissed yet."

"But I don't want to eat that!"

"Did I say you had to eat? No, I didn't. Sit down."

Sealand crossed his arms and sauntered over to his seat. England stared at him through critical eyes and Peter shifted under his pointed gaze. He narrowed his eyes at Arthur and asked, "May I be dismissed?"

Arthur didn't answer him immediately and leaned back in his chair. He eyed him a while longer before finally saying, "You may."

Peter stood up and strolled out of the kitchen. He rolled his eyes. He hated having to ask to be dismissed all the time. It was so pointless and such a waste of time. Just as he walked by, the phone rang again. This time it was the phone in the hall that was closest to him, but he knew that the other phones would be ringing. They were all connected. Just his luck.

He rushed over to the phone and picked it up, "Pappa?"

"Britain!"

Sealand hung up. He gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes at the phone. Really, did America have nothing better to do than bother people all day long? Grumbling under his breath, the micronation stomped up the stairs. He flung his bedroom door open and collapsed on his bed, despite the fact that it was twelve thirty-one. He knew that Sweden would call, but when? Scratching the back of his head, the micronation sighed and rolled over on his back. He stared up at his ceiling, his eyes narrowed in thought. He would stop that phone call. He had to.

~.~.~.~.~.~.

England's rubbed his forehead as Sealand practically all but flew out of the room. What was he going to do with that micronation? The boy hadn't had anything to eat at all day (he had slept way past breakfast time and by the time he got up, Arthur had refused to let him have breakfast). He couldn't force-feed him. He couldn't very well just buy something for him to eat either. After all, why would he waste his money on an abandoned war fort?

Arthur got up and left the kitchen. He really needed to get some work done. His eyes hardened as the thought ran through his head. That was all he did. Work, work, work. He was busy all the time and now he had also been tasked with looking after an idiotic micronation. A child. He didn't have time for children like Sealand and America to just bother him day and night! He worked his ass off every day while Sealand always found something to complain about. Like chores. Arthur snorted. At his age, he had worked a hundred times harder than Sealand could ever hope to imagine. Young nations, territories and micronations alike had absolutely no idea how easy they had it!

England froze. Oh dear God. He was turning into Yao! Always complaining about child nations these days, mumbling about how they had no respect for their shook his head and carried on walking towards his study. He didn't mind child nations. He loved them. Hell, he had taken in so many over the centuries out of the pure goodness of his heart.

No, it was not child nations that were the problem. It was a certain micronation... and maybe America too. He was practically a child anyway, what with his mentality and Sealand... well, Sealand _was_ a child. An annoying, brattish, rude one. England shook his head. He had dealt with rude, annoying, brattish nations before. However Sealand was not a nation; he was a micronation, driven by the determination to be recognised as a country. It was ridiculous.

England walked past a window and paused to look out of it. His bushy eyebrows creased into a frown as he saw some of his gardening tools littered across the garden. He groaned. Cripes, he had completely forgotten about those! He didn't really have time to pick them up, though. He'd better get Sealand to do it. That micronation was probably bored out of his mind and if he wasn't, he was either up to no good or not doing anything important.

Arthur hummed lightly to himself as he made his way to Peter's bedroom. He opened the door and was greeted with the sight of his brother lying on his bed, eyes closed. "Sealand," England said, "Get up."

He received no response.

"You've got chores to do."

A groan was masked by the sounds of snoring.

"I know you're faking it, now get up. I've got something for you to do."

Peter rolled over so that his face was buried in his covers as he said in a muffled voice, "What?"

"I need you to take all of my gardening equipment and put them in front of the shed. Have you got that? Not in the shed, just leave them in front of it. The gardening equipment's in the garden."

"Why do I have to do it? Why can't you?"

"Because I'm busy and you're doing bugger all, now get up. Also, when you're done, I need you to clean out the shed."  
>"No..." Peter moaned.<p>

"Clean out the shed and _then _put my gardening tools in it."

"I don't want to clean out your stupid shed!"

"Well tough. We all need to do our part, so hop to it!"

Arthur didn't even wait for Peter to protest as he left the room and headed for his study. Eyes locked in front of him, the former Empire soon arrived at his destination and entered the room. He walked over to the other side of his desk and plopped down on the chair. He grimaced as he saw the pile of work that he had to do. He shook his head a little and sat up straight, getting ready to start working. He took out the first paper and read it. When he was done, he signed it before moving onto the next one. And the next one. And the next one. And the next one. And the next one. And the one after that. Eventually, his eyes skimmed over everything and he just signed the papers without even bothering to read them. It was such a dull and boring thing to do, but what had to be done, had to be done.

He jerked at the sound of his phone ringing. He answered the call, "Hello?"

"Britain!"

England slammed the phone back down. He was not in the mood to listen to America's annoying rambling. The phone rang again and once again, England answered, hoping that it wasn't his former charge, "Yes?"

"Iggy it's me!"

Curse his luck. "What do you want?!" England snapped.

"I want to know what you're getting meeee for mah birthdayyyyy-"

"I'm not getting you anything, now go bother someone else!" Arthur hung up, eyes narrowing slightly. He focused his attention back on his work when yet another phone call interrupted him. He angrily grabbed the phone.

"What?!" he snarled.

"Engl'nd?"

Arthur froze. "...Sweden?"

"H've I c'lled at a bad tym?"

"Not at all, not at all. Sorry about that, I thought you were America. I- did you want something?"

There was silence on the other line and England began to wonder if the Scandinavian nation had hung up.

"I 'eard th't t'ings hav'n't been goin' so wel' wit' Se'l'nd..." England couldn't help but note that Sweden's voice was tense. Arthur's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Well, I'll admit, we've had our fair share of arguments, but other than that... it's been swell." England said, not entirely being truthful. Nothing was ever `swell´ whenever Sealand was involved.

"Re'lly?"

"Yes..."

"Nut'ing mor' to it, hmm?"

"Of course not," England frowned, "Forgive me for saying this, but I can't help but feel under the impression that you might be implying something."

Once again, England did not get an immediate response. Luckily though, he didn't need to wait too long. "So y'u're sayin' t'at y'u did n't t'ro' Se'l'nd out of a windo'?"

Arthur's eyes widened, "I beg your pardon?"

"My son s'id y'u p'sh'd 'im out of a windo'. 'E w'nts to go 'ome."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, "He said that?"

"Hmm." Sweden grunted. England leaned back in his chair a little, frowning. Arthur's previously wide eyes narrowed into slits.

"I can assure you, Sweden, that I did no such thing." England said through gritted teeth, struggling to keep his mounting anger under control. It would do no good to completely lose it while he was on the phone with Sweden. He'd save that for when he next saw the little liar again. Oh, when he got his hands on that little twit, he would wring his neck and beat the living crumpets out of him.

Sweden didn't say anything and for a moment, England wondered if he really believed that he had thrown his prat-of-a-brother out of a window.

"...I am gl'd to 'ear t'at. 'Owev'r, w'at re'son w'uld Se'l'nd 'ave to li' ab'ut sumet'in' lik' t'at? 'E c'n't 'ave be'n tre't'd v'ry wel'..."

Arthur's jaw clenched. He had treated Sealand perfectly! It wasn't his fault the stupid kid had turned out to be a little git! "I resent that, Sweden. I've been doing a fantastic job at looking after Sealand. Your son just takes what I do for granted and spits on everything I've ever done for him. See, unlike myself, he seems to have anger issues and lets his temper get the better of him. I have no idea where he got that from, but it certainly wasn't from me!" at the silence that followed his statement, England decided to continue, "You know, I didn't have to take him in. I could've let that bloody frog do it. But I decided to save him from all the horrors that he would have undeniably had to bear witness to out of the goodness of my heart! And how does he repay me? By making up horrendous lies, that's how! Well, if he so desires to leave, then perhaps he should!"

Sweden remained silent and once England had stopped speaking, he said, "So do's t'at me'n t'at y'u w'nt us to pi'k 'im up?"

Yes. No. Maybe. Gah, he didn't know! What was he supposed to say? "Aren't you supposed to be busy?"

"We ar'. But if y'u ar' hav'n probl'ms wit' 'im, t'en it mi'ht be best if 'e w'nt som'w'er' els'."

"Who? I mean, who would you leave him with?"

"I d'n't kno'... my w'fe w'uld kno' tho'." Sweden said, which was followed by a muffled "I'm not your goddamn wife, Sweden!".

England tapped his forefinger on his desk, "Do you plan on picking him up?"

"On'y if we 'ave to. Ma w'fe-" "For the last time, I'M NOT YOUR WIFE!" "-w'nts to go to y'ur 'ouse to see if Se'land is f'ne."

"He's alright, Sweden," _For now_, "Sealand doesn't need to be checked up on."

"I-"

But Sweden didn't say anything else, as it seemed that his phone had been snatched by a fellow Nordic, "England."

"Finland. Hello."

"Hi. Listen, I want to come over to see if Peter is OK."

"Finland, I can guarantee that what Sealand said was not true-"

"I just want to check up on him, England. I'm not accusing you of anything," Finland said, but even a deaf person could probably hear how utterly unconvincing his words sounded, "Would tomorrow be a good day?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes."

Arthur frowned. In truth, he did not want a Nordic country dropping by simply to check on an abandoned war fort. However, what other choice did he have? If he refused, they'd obviously think that he was hiding something. "Tomorrow is... fine."

"OK, great! We talk to you later! Bye!" Finland hung up before England could say another word. Arthur looked down at one of the papers that lay on his desk. He squinted his eyes at it a little, thinking hard. He couldn't believe Sealand had made up such a disgusting lie about him! No wait, he could. That was actually just like Sealand to do something like that. England clenched his fists. That little shit! If he had wanted to leave, he could have just said so (England completely ignored the fact that Sealand had told him this many, many times during his stay).

Huffing, England spun his chair around to face the window. He peered out of it and saw Peter carrying a large wooden box filled with gardening tools. Sealand was panting and carrying the box with difficulty. Arthur's eyes hardened. His _dear _little brother would pay for that lie. He'd make sure of it.

**A/N: Yeah, not quite happy with this chapter to be honest. Also, I took a really long time in getting it ready, didn't I? Ah, well. I actually wrote this chapter four different times, with four different chapter plots, however none of them really worked out... this didn't even work out. I feel like England's reaction to Sealand's lie might've been under-reacted (knowing him, I think he'd probably flip his shit but meh). Oh! Here's a little translation: _Adjö – Bye, Good-bye._ What do you guys think? Please tell me in that review of yours ;) Any sort of feedback is welcome...**


	6. A Quarrel Between Brothers

**A/N: Hey readers! Haven't updated in a while, but not too worry; the next chapter is on its way (the one after this one, that is). Not quite sure about this chapter, as England acts a little, erm... well, you'll see. I hope I didn't make him do anything *too* irrational. I mean, they are brothers, and... well, you know how brothers are (or do you?). Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter. Be warned though: the characters may be OOC in this chapter.**

**Chapter Six **

Wiping some sweat off his forehead, Sealand continued to clean out the shed. Manual labour was something Sealand hadn't done since his early years and was the one thing that he certainly didn't miss from his time as a war fort. Well, that and being a war fort. While it was true that cleaning out the shed and completing chores was nowhere near as hard as doing important war-related things, Sealand still tired easily from stuff like that.

Once the shed was spotless (or as spotless as a shed could be), Peter's back immediately collided with the wall and he sunk down to a sitting position, his knees drawed up to his chin. He let out an exhausted sigh and stared up at the ceiling, his head barely touching the wall. His eyes roamed around the room, once again reminding him that he still had a lot of work to do. While he had cleaned out the shed, he now needed to put everything back in it. He groaned.

This was so pointless! Why did he have to do this again? Oh, that's right; because _England _said so and, as always, it was _England _who was in charge. Just wait until he became a world superpower; oh, how he couldn't wait to see the look on England's face when he claimed the title of world's strongest nation!

Peter outstretched his legs and closed his eyes. He couldn't be bothered to work right now. Besides, he had time. Arthur hadn't given him a specific time to complete this in, so it wasn't his fault if he didn't finish it today, right? Speaking of, where was that jerkwad? Probably `working´ in his study. England's work usually took a long time to complete. Or maybe Arthur decided to take a break and check up on him? Peter almost snorted at that wild thought and banished it from his head. England wouldn't check up on him, even if it was just to see if he was done; well, that is to say, he wouldn't check up on him until much later. Even if he was taking a break, he would probably go off being posh and sipping tea somewhere. Yeah, that sounded about right.

A sharp knock on the door drew his attention away from his thoughts and Peter turned to face the door. His bushy eyebrows knitted in confusion and he opted to ignore it completely. England was probably just going to give him some more chores. Besides, it didn't matter whether or not Sealand answered the door; the pompous prat-of-a-nation was going to find a way in anyway.

"Oh Peter," Peter flinched at how surprisingly eerie and soft England's voice was; it was unnatural, "Won't you open the door?"

Sealand's eyes widened in surprise. Okay, there was no way in hell that was his brother. He waited for whoever this imposter was to go away, staring at the door in apprehension. It was only a matter of time before England would burst through the door and abuse poor little Sealand for not opening the door when he had oh-so-politely asked him to.

Peter heard something coming from outside and braced himself for the inevitable; however, he was more than just a little surprised when the door simply opened. No grand enterance, no kicking the door down, nothing. He had expected something completely different. Arthur stepped inside with an obviously forced smile and a _scary-as-hell-like-what-the-fuck _look that seemed to be etched on his face. England sauntered towards the wall opposite Sealand without sparing the micronation a glance as his cold, critical gaze swepped over the room.

"I ought to wring your neck."

Peter's whole body immediately tensed at that statement, "...What?"

"Nothing," England paused, taking a moment to lay a hand on one of the dusty wooden shelves (OK, so he _hadn't _cleaned everything) and drumming his fingers on it, "Say, I think we ought to have a little chat. Don't you agree?"

Okay seriously, what the hell was wrong with him? "No."

"Yes, it is indeed a splendid idea. You seem to be half-way finished, so I see no reason for you to continue with your work right away. Shall we go now?"

Sealand frowned, "Go... where?"

"To have our chat, of course."

"We can talk here." _Although I'd rather we didn't._

Sealand couldn't see England's face, but he was sure that the nation was smirking, "Oh, no. No, I don't think this little shed will do. We can talk plenty somewhere else. Say, there's a very nice lake nearby that you obviously haven't been to. It's a beautiful lake and I'm sure that you will simply love it there."

This was getting more suspicious by the second, "What about my chores?"

England finally turned to face him and hummed, "Oh, you can finish those later. Like I said, there's no reason for you to continue right away."

Yep, something was definitely up, "Nah. I'm fine here. Besides, why would I ever want to go to a lake with a jerk like you?"

Something flashed dangerously in Arthur's eyes, but his smile simply got wider, "Oh, Peter. Oh poor, deluded Peter. You seem to be under the impression that I actually give a crumpet what you think and that I am asking you to come. I'm afraid that isn't the case; you see, you don't have a say in the matter."

"What!? Who are you to say that? I'm don't want to go to some lake with you and I'm not going to!"

"My dear brother... it wasn't a request."

Sealand didn't know what it was; England's creepy tone, his terrifying face, his I'm-going-to-strangle-you stance or... well, just _him_. All that Peter knew was that his body (despite his internal protest) was shaking a little. It was only a little bit, and barely noticeable, however it still shocked him. At least England, being the old country that he was, would probably not see him shaking like a leaf.

"Why so afraid, Sealand? Surely a chat with your brother isn't so terrifying?" England leered. Damn it. It seemed Peter had underestimated Arthur's eyesight.

"I'm not afraid," Sealand glared at England, his fire seemingly returning to him, "I just don't have anything to say to you and I'd rather not be wasting my time with a useless arse. So as I said, _I'm fine here_."

"And as _I _said," Arthur rushed over to Sealand with surprising speed and grabbed his little brother's forearm, causing a startled yelp to escape Sealand's mouth, "It wasn't a request."

Before Peter could protest, England lifted the little micronation up by his arm and all but dragged him out of the shed. Sealand stumbled over his own feet and yelled, "Let go of me, you dick!"

Arthur ignored him, continuing to drag Peter deep into a forest that lay just behind the shed. Sealand struggled to get his arm out of England's vice-like grip and dug his heels into the ground. He yelled profanities at his older brother and jerked about, trying and failing to escape. When his orders to be released immediately fell on deaf ears, an idea popped in Peter's mind and he grew limp, refusing to walk any longer. His brother's grip slackened in short-lived surprise, causing Peter to slip down. Unfortunately though, England managed to grab his wrist before he was truly `free´. Peter smirked when he saw the irritated look on his brother's face. Other than England's clear annoyance, the former empire seemed unfazed by this and continued on. With his not-so-very-well-thought-out plan having backfired, and with being taken somewhere against his will, Sealand was understandably furious.

"Stop it, you jerk! LET GO- AH!" Sealand gasped in pain as his groin was dragged across a tree root. He barely had time to recover as he cried out when they came to a rocky pathway. The stones beneath him grazed his upper body and Sealand tried to dig his fingers into the ground. "OW! Just stop, it hurts!"

"Then get up." was the reply that England managed to grit out. However, Sealand would not stand up and walk; that would mean that England would win this, em... test of wills? He couldn't let that happen!

"No!"

England stopped suddenly, allowing Peter to catch his breath (being dragged across the forest ground was very tiring). Sealand looked up and saw England looking around, his eyes roaming over the forest. Panting a little, Peter got to his knees as quietly as possible and attempted to wrench his hand out of England's; big mistake. Instead of releasing his wrist, Arthur's grip tightened and he pulled Peter's wrist forward. Sealand fell face-first on the ground, his mouth wide open in a silent and totally-but-not-really manly scream. Very slowly, Peter lifted his face and spat out some stones that had made their way into his mouth. Arching his back, he shot a death squint up at Arthur.

"YOU DAMN BASTARD! MOTHERFU-!"

England's foot connected with Sealand's back and the micronation eeped as he once again face-planted the ground. He winced at the pain and was about to yell something else at England (he just never learned) when he suddenly froze. England's murderous expression seemed to be pinning him down. That or he was just being a total pussy and was scared shitless of his older brother at the moment.

"_Watch. Your._ _Language._"

A shiver ran down Sealand's spine. He wondered whether he should respond to that (he wasn't the brightest micronation out there), but then decided against it (oh look, he does have some shred of self-preservation after all). Instead, he opted to gave England his best glare, which unfortunately proved to be ineffective.

England carried on strolling through the woods and Sealand was suprisingly silent the entire time, allowing himself to be dragged without further complaint (he absolutely refused to get back up; he was that stubborn). They finally, _finally _reached the lake and England let go of Sealand's wrist. No sooner had he done that, Sealand instantly clutched his wrist and started rubbing it gently. He debated on running away; after all, England had his back to him and was staring off at the horizon. This was his chance to escape! Peter darted off and ran to the safe confines of his darling home, spending the rest of his _very _long life playing video games and ruling the world. Well, that's what he would've liked to say. Truth was, he had only managed three steps before Arthur's hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed his collar. Sealand made a choking noise as he was pulled back towards his impeding doom.

"Now that we're here, let us talk."

Peter marvelled at how Arthur's murderous expression from earlier had vanished and was replaced by that fake cheery one, "I told you, I don't want to talk to you."

"That's a shame. However, if you're not up for it right now, I suppose there is nothing that I can do about it," England's hand crawled up to the nape of Sealand's neck, "I suppose I'll have to do the talking first. Then," Arthur's hand enclosed around Peter's neck and squeezed a little, "You can have your turn."

Instead of hurting, Arthur's hand only made Peter hunch his shoulders. The micronation craned his head and tried to shake his brother's hand off. It didn't hurt exactly, but it was annoying. Before Sealand could tell England to let go, the former empire started to speak again.

"Please, have a seat." Arthur's palm connected with Peter's chest and the little self-proclaimed nation was shoved back, tumbling to the ground. His back made contact with a boulder and he bit back a wince. Arthur crouched down in front of him and gave Peter a shit-eating grin, "Can you guess what I found out today?"

Peter shot him an incredulous look. _This _was what Jerkland had dragged him out for? "That you're actually in love with both France and America but you can't decide who you want to fuck mor-"

England's fist hurtled towards Sealand's face, but instead punched the boulder, narrowly missing his brother and landing right above Sealand's right shoulder. His eyes were squinted in unsuppressed fury and his smile became more strained. Peter noted these changes with some satisfaction. Arthur looked like he was struggling not to throttle him, "**No**. I found out that an idiotic brat went and spread a nasty lie about me that could _get me in_ _deep trouble_." England's last few words were hissed.

Sealand's eyes widened in realisation. Oh. _Oh_. So that was it. Well... shit. England had found out; he was dead. There was nothing he could do to fight his inevitible, cruel fate. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. "Just what are you trying to say?"

England gritted his teeth, "Don't play dumb with me!"

Peter narrowed his eyes, "Who are you calling dumb?! You know, you've got some nerve accusing me of doing something that I didn't-"

Arthur looked like he was about to rip Sealand's insides out. "_Listen here, you little shit! _Don't you _dare _try to feed me that poppycock! I am right up to here with you! You're going to tell Finland the truth when he comes here tomorrow and admit that you lied, or so help me God, I will _**choke you to death!**_"

Sealand only got one thing out of that sentence, "Isä's coming?"

"That's what I just said, you insufferable _twit_!"

"Don't call me that, asshole!" Peter scowled, his bratty attitude hitting him back in full force.

England's eyes narrowed into slits, "I'll call you what I want. How dare- how dare-" England seemed to be having trouble forming a proper sentence. He got back up quicker than Sealand's mind could process it. His hand whipped out with breakneck speed and grabbed the front of Sealand's shirt, lifting him up and pinning him to the boulder. "I ought to pummel you for what you did!" he snarled.

Sealand's face started to colour, "For lying? It wasn't even that seriou-"

Arthur's other hand reached out to grab the front of Peter's shirt as well and he gave the boy a firm shake, "It was _very _serious, Sealand! You don't seem to understand the severity of your actions, nor what being a country means!"

"What has this got to do with-!"

"Finland was downright _pissed _when you told him that lie and his anger was wrongly directed towards me! I'm pretty sure Sweden was, too. While, as countries, we have absolutely no right to get into scuffles with other nations over such trivial matters, that won't matter to those Nordics if they think that their _darling _child has been injured!" England spat. "They'll want to protect anyone they hold dear, and rightly so, however it'll come at a price; their bosses will blame _me _for them losing their damn minds and being blinded by rage simply because their citizens will also feel this burning hatred towards me! The thoughts of countries are influenced by their children, their citizens and vice versa. Because their bosses will blame me, my boss will step in and defend me, which will most likely lead to a fight which may or may not result in a war! The worst thing about this? No one will know why we'd even be fighting a pointless war! No one will know that it would all be _your _fault. Now do you understand? Or are you too dense to even comprehend something as simple as that?!"

Sealand stared shell-shocked at his older brother, his eyes wide. Truth be told, he didn't really fully understand what England was saying, however Sealand thought he had grasped the meaning behind his words. Really, he thought it quite ridiculous though. A war? Over a simple lie? Pah! While yes, it was true that the thoughts of a country influenced the thoughts of its people (and vice versa), he highly doubted that whatever confrontation could occur between his parents and his brother would lead to war. "What a load of bull-"

England once again slammed Sealand against the boulder, however he had done it with much more force than he had intended; a very sickening crack could be heard. Sealand's eyes widened wider than possible and he could feel time coming to a stop. England immediately released his hold on him and Peter collapsed. He wheezed and inhaled sharply as he rolled over to his side.

"Get up." it appeared that England had recovered from his short-lived shock. "I said get up, you muling quim!"

"I c-can't-"

"I know you're faking it, you bloody blighter, now get _up_!" England seized Sealand's wrist and hauled him up. Peter keeled over slightly, but otherwise he appeared to be fine.

"Why- why the **hell **did you do that!?"

Well... calling him `fine´ was maybe a little too generous.

"You deserved it; you were practically begging for it."

"How-how-" it seemed that it was Sealand's turn to be at a loss for words.

"Quit stuttering! It's not my fault that you're too idiotic to realise when you've crossed a bloody line-"

"YOU DAMN BASTARD!" Sealand launched himself at his brother and attempted to pound him with all he had- which, to be quite frank, wasn't much. Arthur easily deflected his pathetic hits, blocked his weak kicks and countered his mediocre attacks. Peter kept attacking Arthur relentlessly, yet for some reason unknown to him, Arthur didn't fight back. He guessed it didn't matter anyway; it just made his job all that much easier. Well, that's what he thought anyway. The truth was, his attacks were completely useless against England.

England's eyes narrowed into slits as Sealand kept throwing punch after punch and kick after kick, "Enough, Sealand."

Peter ignored him, childishly continuing to attack him without using his brain. He didn't even seem to realise that his attacks didn't affect England. England, having grown tired of this, decided to end it and flipped Sealand over with ease. Peter fell to the ground with an `oof!´ and rolled over. Once again, Arthur's foot was atop his back, digging into it and pinning him down. Sealand wiggled about, trying to shake England off only to have the nation in question bend down towards Sealand's ear and whisper lowly, "I said that's enough, Peter."

For the umpteenth time that day, Peter seemed to freeze. He grew limp and tears started to well up in his eyes. He choked on a sob as his body began to rack with them. He felt England relieving pressure on Peter's back, though his foot was still there. The two brothers remained in their positions in silence, save for Peter's sobbing and sniffing. Then, to Sealand's disbelief, England removed his shoe from Sealand's back and slowly bent down. Peter, who heard the sudden movement, looked up at him through tears; Arthur's face was still stern and angry, although there were slight traces of guilt and pity in those emerald eyes. "Sealand-"

Peter saw his chance and he took it; he reached over and socked Arthur in the eye, sending the former empire down on his back before the nation could even register what the hell had happened. Wiping his crocodile tears away, Peter leapt up and, upon seeing his brother lying defenselessly on the ground, rushed over to kick him instead of doing the smart thing (running away, although whether that could be considered smart is really up for debate). He grinned with unsuppressed glee as he swung his right foot to give England a whopper-of-a-kick; unfortunately, Arthur's hand shot out and grabbed it. The aforementioned hand clenched around Peter's ankle and pulled, sending the micronation toppling down. England took his time getting back up, wiping his trousers as he did so. "That was not a smart move, Sealand." Arthur's voice was dangerously quiet.

Having fallen on his poor back so many times that day (it didn't help that he had only just healed from the fall he had suffered a few days ago), Sealand ground out, "Fuck... you."

England's eyes flashed and he stepped over Sealand, the latter watching his every move with wary eyes. England's own emerald orbs were sharp and furious as they stared down at the micronation. He reached out a hand and grabbed Sealand's collar, yanking him up. Arthur bent down until their faces were only inches apart, "Apologise." he ordered.

Sealand's flabbergasted expression only lasted a few seconds, "Why the hell would I-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence; he fell flat on his back after having been delivered a forceful shove by Arthur. Sealand propped his upper body up, all the while growling. He had had enough of being pushed around (quite literally) and having his back suffer for no reason. "Would you stop doing that, you feckin' jerk?!"

England said and did nothing, surprising both of the brothers; England was renowned for his short temper and was not known for taking an insult without at least throwing one back. Instead, Arthur just gave him a hard stare. He didn't even try to stop Sealand when the micronation got up. However, when the lad started walking away, Arthur could not hold his silence, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from you." came Peter's snappy retort.

"I don't bloody well think so." Arthur strode over to Peter, who was quickly picking up the pace. It was only a second later when Sealand broke out into a run. Arthur sprinted after him, catching up all too quickly. He tackled his little brother and they both tumbled down, rolling down a ditch with Sealand blindly throwing punches wherever he could. When they came to a stop, England kicked Sealand off, making the micronation fall on his back before pinning his arms above his head. "I should drown you just for that." England snarled. Thanks to England's very serious tone, Sealand believed that Arthur meant this literally and his eyes widened.

"Let go of me, let go right now!" Sealand released a shrill shriek, which seemed to have no effect on his brother.

"Not until you shut your mouth!"

"Leave me alone!"

Arthur's grip tightened and a wince escaped from Peter's lips. The pain made Peter slowly stop struggling. Tears started to pool in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. England glared down at him and he slapped Sealand so hard that a red hand-print formed on the micronation's cheek instantaneously. Sealand gasped in pain as his tears started to become genuine.

England growled, "Don't you dare try to pull that trick with me again!"

Peter looked up past him as he blinked back the oncoming waterfall of tears. That slap had hurt a hell of a lot. Being hit by a country was the worst pain imaginable. Beads of blood started appearing on Peter's slapped cheek, but neither nation nor micronation payed them any attention. Instead, Sealand reached his hand up to stroke his injured cheek, ignoring the spots of blood that were smeared on his hand. Once the initial shock of being slapped had worn off, Sealand's boiling anger seemed to re-ignite.

"HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU HIT ME LIKE THAT! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT, NO RIGHT AT ALL!" Sealand screamed at England like the immature micronation that he was, somehow managing to worm out of England's grip due to his `shocking´ outburst. He stood up and glared at England, who glared right back.

"I had every right to slap you, you manipulative brat!"

"You- you damn asshole! You bloody jerk!"

"Put a sock in it, Sealand."

Peter's fists clenched, "You're such a bastard! I hate you! You hear that? I HATE YOU!"

"Well, I'm not exactly all that fond of you either!"

It's been said in the past, that Sealand was not very bright; if nothing proved that before, his following action certainly did. The metal platform once again began to attack the green-eyed nation. This time though, England didn't just counter attack whenever Sealand would try to land a hit. This time, he was willing to fight back. "Bloody hell, Sealand, stop it!"

"NO!"

Dodging a badly aimed kick (it wasn't really that hard to do), England snapped, "Stop it now!"

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"Like hell I can't!" England pushed Sealand back a few steps and Peter lunged forward with his fist swinging in all directions.

"This is why you have no friends, you dickwad! Everyone hates you and your stupid ugly face!"

"I had no idea that you were Mr. Popularity, Sealand."

"Of course I am! I'm a future empire, it's my duty to be popular-"

"Give it a damn rest already! You're too weak and feeble-minded to ever become an empire! Hell, you're not even a country or a small territory! You're a nobody and the sooner you give up on your pathetic dreams, the better! You need to learn to face reality, boy!"

By this point, Sealand was now just a vessel carrying blood filled with bubbling rage, "AND WHAT ABOUT YOU?! EVERYONE hates you! Your former colonies, your allies, your family- EVERYONE! You're just a waste of space and everybody longs for the day that you finally die! The whole world will be celebrating when that day comes-!" Sealand, in the middle of his rant, had left himself completely open, focusing on verbally attacking his brother rather than physically. This gave England the chance to backhand him. The blow was such a strong one that it sent Sealand falling on his back (again). This time, the damage had been so much worse; the slap seemed like absolutely nothing in comparison. Peter's other cheek started swelling at a rapid pace and it was only a matter of time before a bruise began to form. This... was not good.

Sealand lay on the ground motionless as silent tears began cascading down his cheeks. He whimpered and buried his face into the ground, unable to stop himself from openly crying. He could smell everything around him, including his tears, and he closed his eyes. His body was quaking slightly and he couldn't seem to control it. He didn't notice England's slightly horrified expression, nor did he notice when England hesitantly knelt down next to him. However, he did notice when Arthur's tentative hand rested on the small of his back. It didn't move at all, it just stayed there. Sealand could feel how tense England was, and he couldn't help but flinch away from his brother's touch. Instead of drawing his hand back like Sealand expected him to, Arthur tried to relax his hand and slowly started trailing it up his back to rub his shoulders. This gesture felt awkward to both of them, yet it still seemed to comfort Peter (to some degree).

England mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like an apology, but Sealand brushed it off. Arthur's voice sounded muffled, so he could have said anything, and besides, Peter's face was buried in moss, so it wasn't like he could hear anything perfectly clear.

"Let me see it." England said and Peter stiffened. He didn't want to show Arthur his cheek; he was still super pissed at him, even if his hurt completely drowned out most emotions. Peter heard movement coming from behind him and felt Arthur's hand gently push Peter back into a sitting position; Sealand let him. There was no point in fighting anymore; he was far too tired.

England placed a finger under Peter's face and lifted it up. His green eyes scanned Sealand's face and a cold look passed over his eyes when he spotted the large red blotch that had appeared on Sealand's left cheek. A tear escaped Sealand's eye and England tentatively wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. This made Arthur's hand drop to his side awkwardly and he averted his gaze. Peter lifted a hand to caress his cheek and sobbed upon contact. England shot him a guilty look, which he missed.

As Sealand resumed sniffling and weeping quietly, England decided to leave him in peace; after all, he wasn't very good at comforting. Once upon a time, maybe, but nowadays... his comforting skills had deteriorated drastically since his status as empire had been revoked. And even then, they weren't all that great either...

After England felt that Sealand had sufficiently calmed down, he stood back up and waited for his little brother to do the same. When they were both upright, England led the way back to the mansion. He didn't need to make sure that Sealand would follow; he already knew that he would.

They finally arrived and both brothers just noticed that it was getting dark. Sealand looked inquiringly at his brother. England responded by shaking his head and said, "Go on to bed, Peter. The chores aren't going anywhere; you'll do them tomorrow."

Peter gave off a nod and was about to head in.

"Oh, and Peter?"

Sealand stopped and turned his head around.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth."

Sealand nodded and walked to the front door, heading inside. He had by no means forgiven England for hitting him; he was simply too tired and, most importantly, too embarrassed to fight him. Without brushing his teeth, Sealand climbed into bed (without even taking his clothes off first) and dozed off immediately. Between trying to stop his brother from receiving a phone call, cleaning the shed, and fighting, his day had been a long one. He was glad that it had come to an end.

**A/N: Yes, I know, a terrible chapter. I admit, the fighting was a bit repetitive, but this IS Sealand and England we're talking about. Anyway, I apologise for any mistakes you might find. It's... 1 in the morning at the moment and I'm exhausted. I really felt that I should update though and I hope that I didn't disappoint (although I probably did...). Anyway, that tidbit about France and America... Sealand was only teasing England. There won't be any romantic pairings in this story (well, unless if you ask Sweden... he'll definitely tell you that he's in a relationship... though his "wife" might disagree on that). Sorry if this disappoints anyone. Oh, and if you think that the worst is over for the boys, guess again. There's more to come... :) As always, reviews are highly appreciated.**


	7. Finland's Visit

**A/N: I cannot express how deeply sorry I am for not updating sooner. What's my excuse this time? Well, I've moved house to live abroad and it's taken longer than I had anticipated to get everything packed and ready to go. Not a good excuse, I know, but it's the only one I've got. I actually wrote this chapter days ago, but since I've had no access to the internet, I wasn't able to upload it. You guys didn't deserve to wait that long, so here's a long(er) chapter to (hopefully) make it up to you. Well... long by my standards XD.**

**Anyway, I'm gonna stop droning on about how sorry I am and let you get on with the chapter. Hope you enjoy it x**

Chapter Seven

It was eerily quiet in the kitchen that morning. The only sound that could be heard was the slow-paced ticking of the sole clock in the room, currently rested atop of the mantelpiece. Staring with dull, half-lidded eyes at what lay before him, the weary nation cradled a steaming hot mug of tea in his hands. He gently stroked the handle with the pad of his thumb, his emerald eyes narrowing in thought. It was hard to contemplate about anything worth thinking about, what with his head pounding like crazy. He raised the mug up to his lips so that it barely touched them and took a long sip. England closed his eyes in contentment. The tea seemed to make all of his troubles wash away for the time-being, something which England was very thankful for. It was so soothingly relaxing. It tasted absolutely glorious. He was so at peace that he didn't notice a figure slipping inside. It eyed England for a moment before announcing itself.

"I'm hungry."

England jerked forward, his eyes snapping open. He spilled some tea on his trousers, causing a large blotch of tea to form. Arthur cursed and reached across the table to grab a napkin, harshly dabbing the stain. When it was dry, he whirled around to face the one he had dreaded seeing, "What did you do that for?"

"Do what?" Sealand questioned, stepping out of the shadows. England inwardly cringed at the two large bruises that had formed overnight, seemingly etched on either side of the micronation's cheeks. England hated to think what Finland would say when he saw that. Sealand watched him for the shortest of moments before padding over to the table to take his seat. "I'm hungry."

"Well make your own food." England instantly scowled, gripping the handle of his mug tightly and draining the remainder of his tea.

Sealand mirrored his brother's expression, "I'm a guest."

"So act like one and stop being such a pest."

"What's got you in such a foul mood? You know, other than being your emo self?"

Arthur ignored Peter's quip, "You've got me in a foul mood. You always do," England raised his mug only to sigh in dismay when he realised that all the tea was gone, "As if that wasn't bad enough." he muttered to himself and placed the mug back down on the table. He rested his arm on the table and massaged his temple.

"Elbows off the table." Sealand quoted England's earlier words. England merely grunted in response.

"Pass me the aspirin."

"Why should I?"

"Just do it."

"It won't affect you in any way, you know," Sealand pointed out, "besides, you don't have any."

"I do. It's in the top cupboard."

"Which one?"

"The one above the microwave." England answered glumly. Sealand stared at him.

"Again, which one?"

England threw him an unamused look, "Which do you think?"

Sealand blinked.

"You know what? Forget it." England grumbled, his eyes downcast as he glared down at his empty tea cup, "Just fetch me some tea instead."

Peter gave him an affronted look, "Get it yourself."

Arthur's eyes narrowed into slits, "Sealand, just get me the damned tea."

"Make me breakfast and I'll give you your stupid tea."

"Get it now." England managed to grit out, glaring daggers at Peter. Peter squinted his eyes at him, but did as was asked.

"Here." he slammed the tea pot down in front of Arthur, inciting an angry growl from the former empire.

"Don't bloody slam it, you'll break it!"

"My bad." Peter sang as he toddled off to the other end of the table, "So are you going to make me breakfast now?"

England didn't even dignify that with an answer as he poured tea in his mug.

"You promised!"  
>"I did no such thing. Now get out of my sight and leave me alone." Arthur said before drinking his tea. Sealand glared at him through hate-filled eyes.<p>

"If you don't make me breakfast I'll tell my parents about last night."

Arthur turned his head to the side to scowl at him. You'd have thought that, after yesterday, the brat would have learnt to not be such a brat (for a limited time, at least). You'd have thought wrong. It was not in Sealand's nature to right his attitude simply because he'd started and lost a fight the previous day. It was unfortunate that changes like that just didn't happen overnight.

"How... interesting that you bring that up. I've been meaning to talk about last night," Sealand eyed him with badly suppressed curiosity and England continued, "We need to come up with a story to excuse our appearances."

"You'll have trouble with that then." Sealand smirked. England shot him a look that immediately shut the micronation up.

"As I was saying, we need to create a story to explain why we have these noticeable injuries. And before you suggest it, no, we can't come up with something as ludicrous as the whole `I ran into a pole´ excuse. We need to think of something realistic. Something that seems plausible, something that won't make it sound as if we're lying."

"So let me get this straight," Sealand started, "you abused me for lying, yet now you want us to lie about you abusing me for lying?"

England's bushy eyebrow twitched, "I did not abuse you. In fact, it would never have come to blows had you not been such a smart mouth."

Sealand stuck his tongue out at him, an act which England opted to ignore.

"I think it's a good idea for us to discuss what our story will be right now."

Peter's eyes screwed up in thought, "Hmm... OK. How about we-"

"We will say that someone came over- lets say it's America- acting like his usual, bothersome self demanding to know what he's going to get for his birthday. We try to tell him he's not getting anything but he gets mad and attacks us. Just then, France appears out of the blue to bug the hell out of me and backs America up _like he did all those centuries ago, the stupid frog _all because he wants to spite me. Oh, this will be brilliant. America and France will have pissed off the Nordics. Russia will side with them simply for an excuse to go to war with America. Then, a whole lot of countries will get pulled into this whole mess, and I simply won't give a crumpet, gladly staying out of WWIII. Oooh, just think about it. All these countries will be at each other's throats for no reason at all! I'll be making a profit- of course, I'll have to bump China out of the game, lest I have some competition- but he's easily rid of. It'll be like the Opium Wars all over again. Finally, I'll be rid of them all and I'll take my rightful place as ruler of the world. I feel so much better already!"

"You hypocrite!" Sealand accused. England raised an eyebrow and turned quizzical eyes in his direction. "You beat me up because I lied and you thought I'd start world war three or some stupid garbage like that but then you want to go ahead and do the exact same thing!"

England smiled, "Ah, but this is different. See, in this scenario, I don't go to war with anybody- well, maybe China, but like I said, I can easily defeat him. I won't be anyone's target~!"

"America and France would know you lied and they'd want revenge!"

"Why, they'd be too preoccupied with the likes of Russia to even think about attacking me."

"Your story doesn't sound believable at all!" Sealand claimed, "It would never work!"

England scowled at him, "And I suppose you have a better idea, then?"

"Duh."

"Alright. Let's hear it then."

"We tell them that I ran into a pole!"

Sealand's statement was met with a silence that seemed to stretch for hours.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"It can't be any dumber than your idea! I mean, come on! I didn't even come out on top as the King of the Universe!"

"Oh give it a rest already."

"The pole idea is the best we've got-"

"Poles can't hurt us, you idiot!"

"It's still a good story-"

"No, it really isn't." England said, sounding slightly hysterical. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, "If you don't agree with my idea, then just say so, but-"

"OK, I don't agree with your idea."

Arthur huffed, "Fine. You know what, fine! Then how about this: America came over and wanted all our oil for whatever reason-"

"No." Sealand shot down.

"Alright. France came over and tried to molest-"

"Nope."

"Hey, that is something that's very likely to happen-"

Sealand threw his arms up in the air in exasperation, "Your ideas are lame! Let's just tell the truth."

"What, about how you lied?"

"No, about how you beat me to a pulp."

England rolled his eyes, "I didn't even punch you, don't be a crybaby!"

"I'm not a crybaby!"

"Could've fooled me." England jibbed. Peter looked ready to retort, but Arthur continued, "Look, let's just say America came over and you two ended up rough-housing resulting in your injuries. Then I tried to intervene but got socked in the eye from a rogue punch. Does that sound realistic enough for you, you brat?"

Peter opened his mouth to protest, then closed it before repeating the action several times. He seemed torn between wanting to disagree and admitting that he agreed. Eventually, he conceded, "Fine. But you better make it sound believable. Or, you know, I'm telling the truth."

"Finally, something that satisfies you." Arthur muttered, bringing his mug of tea to his lips.

"Don't think I'm doing this for you though."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Because, you know, I'm only doing this so that my parents don't get mad at you and start a war... literally."

"As expected of you." England said coolly after taking a sip of tea.

Peter bobbed his head, "Right. Now that that's cleared up... where's my breakfast?"

"It flew away to live in a colony."

Sealand's eyes narrowed, "I want my breakfast."

"Make it then."

Peter made a whiny sort of noise before chanting, "Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, breakfast-"

England groaned and lightly touched his head, "Dear God, Sealand, be quiet."

"Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, breakfast-"

"Oh, SHUT UP!"

"BREAKFAST! BREAKFAST! BREAKFAST! BREAKFAST! BREAKFAST! BREAK-"

"Fine, I'll make your damn breakfast! Just shut up!" Peter quieted down and smiled at him. Sighing, England got to his feet, "Here comes my headache again..."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

It was right after lunch that Finland arrived. As he hadn't specified what time he'd drop by, Arthur and Peter shouldn't have been surprised by his early arrival. Key word: shouldn't. The two brothers had been stupidly stunned to find Finland standing outside the front door at ten to one. It was a good thing that Sealand and England had covered their bruises with make-up beforehand, or else Finland would surely have received a bigger shock than they did.

"Isä!" Peter exclaimed instantly, throwing himself at his father as soon as he saw him.

"Sealand!" Tino greeted just as enthusiastically, his arms wrapping around his son in a tight hug, "I've missed you."

"I missed you too." Sealand returned the hug with all the force he could muster. Eventually, Finland released his hold on Peter and looked past him to see England.

"Good day to you." Finland smiled brightly, holding his hand out for England to take. The island nation did and gave it a firm shake.

"Finland. I didn't expect to see you so early," England stepped aside to allow Finland entrance, "Please, come in."

Finland stepped inside, gazing at his surroundings in amazement, "I've said it before, but your house is truly... magnificent. It's so big and just... wow."

"Hmm. I suppose it is rather large." Arthur mused.

"Ah, em. Not to be rude or anything, but um... may I use your bathroom?" Finland asked almost sheepishly, "It's just, I had a lot to drink on the way here and... well..."

"Of course. By all means, go right ahead."

"Thanks." Finland turned his head around before turning his head back. He smiled in a shy manner and England and Sealand merely stared at him, wondering what he wanted now. The Nordic nation cleared his throat, "Could you tell me where it is?"

"Where what is?"

Finland's smile faltered slightly, "The bathroom."

"Oh! The bathroom, of course! Just go down the hall, turn left, down the corridor, turn right, second door on the left."

Finland inclined his head and headed off in that direction. This left the two brothers alone.

"_Hmm. I suppose it is rather large._" Peter mimicked Arthur from earlier.

"Shut up."

"Shut up."

"Stop copying me."

"Stop copying m- OW!" Sealand rubbed his forearm, which England had just punched. England allowed a smug smirk to grace his face. It didn't take long for Finland to return. As soon as he had, England clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

"Right then. Can I offer you a cup of tea?" at Finland's slight hesitance, he added, "Or coffee, perhaps?"

"That would be nice." Finland answered with a smile.

"If you want, you can wait in the living room."

"Thank-you." Finland thanked before staring at him awkwardly. Sealand was about to ask him what was wrong with him, but England seemed to have already guessed.

Arthur heaved a sigh, "Peter, go show your father the living room."

Sealand grumbled, but did as he was told. "Come on, Isä." he took his father's arm and led him away while England spun around on his heel and headed towards the kitchen to prepare beverages.

"So how have things been?" Finland questioned as Sealand continued to drag his father to the living room. "Have you been having fun?"

"No." Peter answered bluntly.

Finland regarded him sadly, "I thought you might say that."

"He's been incredibly mean to me, Isä. I- I want to go home." Peter whimpered, turning to face his father, "Can I?"

"It's a possibility, but it depends," Finland said and Sealand inwardly whooped, "Did he actually... has he _done_ anything to you?"

"Done? What do you mean by that?" Sealand took his seat on the sofa and Finland sat down beside him.

"Well, I... has he hit you? Or hurt you in any way?" Finland didn't fail to notice how Sealand tensed up at his question. Unsettling worry began to grow in the pit of Tino's stomach. "Sealand, Peter... please tell me the truth. Did he hurt you? I need to know."

Sealand eyed his father for a moment, unsure of whether he should say anything. On the one hand, he could lie (again) and tell Tino that he was perfectly fine and that no, Arthur hadn't hurt him at all. On the other hand, he could tell the truth. He didn't really know how Finland would react to the truth, but he didn't really care to find out. Finland could be positively terrifying when he wanted to be.

He needed to think of something fast, because Finland wasn't going to wait for his answer forever. So Sealand blurted out the first thing he could think of, "Did you know that I can breathe underwater?"

"Sealand..."

"No, really, it's true. I can show you if you l-" before Sealand could finish his sentence, the door opened to reveal Arthur, a large, sleek black tray in his possession. He carried it all the way to the coffee table (tea table!) and set it down.

"There we go." England sank in his armchair opposite his brother and his brother's father. Finland flashed him a smile and outstretched a hand to swipe the steaming mug of coffee from its place. England took his own cup of tea and sipped it slowly. The two nations both eyed each other over the rims of their cups, waiting for the other country to break the silence. Sealand merely stared at them. At the exact same time, Arthur and Tino deposited their beverages back on the tray, both of them smacking their lips as they did so.

They watched each other for a period of time, and if Peter had to hazard a guess, it was at least half an hour before someone actually spoke up.

"So as you know, I'm here because of Sealand." Finland stated matter-of-factly. Peter looked at Arthur and just knew that he was thinking of something sarcastic.

"Of course. And may I be the first to say that I am truly sorry that you had to come all the way here simply so that you could see for yourself that Sealand was lying."

Peter's fists clenched on his lap and his sea blue eyes narrowed.

Tino leaned back in his seat, "Yes, well. I'm not so sure about that."

"Oh?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, "If it will ease your needless doubts, Sealand can confirm that what I say is true."

Finland turned to his son for confirmation.

"Er..." Sealand looked from Finland's expectant face to England's barely noticeable eye twitch. He swallowed quite audibly, "I- I'm sorry, Isä," at Finland's look of confusion, Sealand looked away, "England's telling the truth."

"But then that means..."

Sealand nodded, still refusing to meet his father's eye, "Yeah... I lied."

Sealand's confession was met with utter silence. Finland stared straight ahead, determined to not be forced to look at his son. England could feel the tense atmosphere and realised with guilty pleasure that he felt quite at ease. He watched Peter fidget about in his seat, quietly trying to get Tino's attention.

"Isä?"

Finland snapped out of it and shook his head, partly refusing to believe what his son had said and partly berating himself for not having seen this coming, "Why, Peter?"

"I just- I just wanted to go home." Peter admitted, his eyes downcast. Tino squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from Peter while Arthur resisted the urge to smirk smugly.

"You didn't need to lie to me." Finland breathed.

"I know, and I'm sorry! I didn't want to, it's just- England was being cruel and unfair, yelling at me and beating me-"

"Is this true?" Finland interrupted and turned accusatory eyes on England. Arthur knew what he was doing, and he couldn't say that he blamed him. Tino was trying to find someone else to blame other than his perfect son. It was understandable, of course, but England was still going to set him straight.

"You see, Sealand's been rather rude these past few days. Misbehaving whenever he feels like it, cursing like a sailor, throwing temper tantrums when things don't go his way- these are all things he does constantly simply for the sole purpose of getting on my nerves. So actually, yes, I do occasionally snap at him. But I can assure you that I have never, ever in all the years that he has been alive laid a hand on him."

_Liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, _Sealand thought frantically. "That's not true!"

"Why would you say that? Of course it is-"

"Isä, don't listen to him, he's lying!"

"Frankly Sealand," Finland's purple-brown eyes bored into Sealand's sea blue ones, "I don't know what to believe."

Peter's eyes widened in horror, "How could you say that?"

"I really don't know why you're so surprised. After all," Tino's eyes narrowed dangerously, "you did just lie to me about getting hurt."

England wanted to point out that being thrown out of a window actually wouldn't cause lasting damage, but he wisely held his tongue.

"I-I-" Sealand stuttered, seemingly unable to formulate a proper sentence, "I'm sorry." he apologised lamely.

"Sorry." Finland repeated dryly, "I guess because you're `sorry´, I'll just forget about it and forgive you? Was that what you were expecting? Well, I've got bad news for you. I don't accept your apology."

Peter gaped at him. Never, in all the time that he had lived with Finland, had the northern nation refused to accept his apology for anything. "W-why not?"

"Why not? Hmm, let's see. You lied to me for no excusable reason about getting hurt- thrown out of a window by your own brother, no less! Then, despite the fact that you knew that I would find out, you continued to lie when you had the chance to come clean. I should have just listened to Sweden when he told me not to come here."

"Pappa told you not to come?"

"He had an inkling that you weren't being fully honest. He wasn't all that sure, but we really weren't sure of anything. Hyvä Jumala, I'm so stupid!"

"You're not stupid, Finland," England spoke up, "You were just being a concerned parent. Anyone would have done the same."

Finland smiled, "That's very kind of you to say."

By this point, Sealand was seeing red. He knew exactly what his jerk-of-a-brother was up to and he didn't like it. Not one bit. "Stop being such a suck up, you jerk." he spat without thinking.

"Peter!" Tino admonished as Arthur's eyebrows knitted together.

"What? Can't you see what he's doing?" Peter seethed.

"What am I doing, Peter?" Arthur questioned with mock curiosity.

Sealand gnashed his teeth together, "You're trying to get on his good side!"

"On my good side?" Finland furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Tä-?"

"He's been nothing but a complete arse to me and he's sucking up to you so that you won't get mad at him!"

"Why would I get mad at him?"

"Because yesterday he bea-"

"Something happened last night." England interjected quickly. This shocked the father and son duo and they both turned to stare at him.

"Something... what happened?" Finland looked at him suspiciously while Sealand eyed him incredulously. Was... was he really going to tell him what happened? Sure, Peter had been inclined to tell Tino earlier, but still.

Instead of answering Finland's question with words, England waved a lazy hand in Peter's direction. Frowning, Tino looked at Peter. It took him only a few seconds before he realised that something was wrong with his son's face. His frown deepened, "Is that- are you wearing make-up?"

Peter's face visibly coloured to form a burgundy red, "No!"

"It is make-up!" Tino exclaimed, "Why are you wearing make-up?"

"I'm not!" Sealand denied. Finland turned to England for an explanation.

"Is this what you meant? Last night my son turned into a transvestite?"

Sealand buried his face in his hands as his blush deepened while England fought back the sudden urge to burst out laughing.

"Unfortunately not."

"Oh."

"Indeed."

Finland went back to staring at the make-up on his son's face. He raised his hand up to Peter's face and for a split second, the micronation thought that he was going to slap him. Lucky for him though, this was an irrational fear and Tino merely brought his thumb out and caressed Sealand's cheek with the pad to wipe off some of the make-up. Peter suppressed a scream as he flinched away from his father's touch. Tino froze and his hand hovered near Peter's cheek.

"Is something wrong?" he asked Sealand, who shook his head in response. Finland tentatively attempted to gently prod him again, but Peter edged away. Tino withdrew his hand and sat up straight, turning his pointed gaze to England. "What's wrong with him?"  
>"Nothing's wrong with me-"<p>

"I think he'd better tell you himself." England spoke softly.

"Sealand," Finland looked at Sealand, "what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong-"

"Don't give me that," Tino snapped, "Something's obviously wrong, so you might as well just come out and tell me what it is."

"It's nothing. I just ran into a pole." Peter blurted out. Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes.

Finland's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Ran into a pole? You _ran into a pole_? Do you expect me to believe that?!"

Arthur shot Peter an `I told you he wouldn't fall for that´ look.

"It's possible." Sealand muttered.

Before Finland could say anything, England decided that now was the time to actually intervene, "What Sealand is trying to say," he raised his voice slightly, "is that yesterday, we were paid a visit by America."

Finland's eyebrows shot up, "Really?"

"This is actually a common occurrence." England said matter-of-factly, "Anyway, he was trying to get me to tell him what he was getting for his birthday. I told him to go fu- er, to go away," England corrected himself in time, "As always though, he stayed. He saw Sealand and wanted to play a game, according to him. They were rough-housing and things got a little out of hand. I tried to stop them, but," Arthur indicated his eye, "this happened."

Finland squinted his eyes, "I don't see anything."

"I covered it up,"

"Ah." Tino nodded in understanding, then paused, "But why?"

"Things were getting out of hand; had I not intervened, there would have been much more damage done."

"I think you misunderstand. I meant to say, why did you cover it up? You could have just told me immediately and I would have understood."

"Well, yes, but you see, Sealand was... well, rather embarrassed to show his face to you and I was about to head to the super market, so..."

"I understand. So yesterday, America was playing with Sealand and it escalated from there, ending up in numerous injuries?"

"Yes. America apologised profusely, if that makes you feel better."

"It does."

"Excellent," Arthur leaned back in his chair, his eyes darting from Peter to Tino and back again, "So was that all?"

Finland hesitated a little before turning to Sealand, "Is what he says true?"

Sealand's eyes flickered up and he stared at England. Arthur could tell that he wanted to tell the truth and get him in trouble, but he also wanted to take the quick and easy way out by lying. It was a simple, harmless little lie. After all, no one would get hurt from it. Would they?

Sealand bowed his head, "Yeah."

Tino released a sigh of relief that he hadn't know he'd been holding in, "That's good to hear."

"So,,, does this mean I can come back home?" Peter asked, his eyes twinkling with hope. Tino stared at him before directing his gaze to Arthur.

"What do you think?"

"It's your choice," Arthur smiled, his eyes also a little hopeful, "Although personally, I do believe it would be in everyone's best interests if you took him home."

Finland nodded, "Alright then. I'll need to talk about this with Berwald. May I use your phone?"

"Of course."

Finland got up and stood there awkwardly. He smiled sheepishly, "Um... where..?"

"You can use the one in the kitchen," Arthur said before turning to Sealand, "Sealand, take your father to the kitchen."

"Why do I have to do it?" Peter whined. Arthur fixed him with an unamused look while Finland merely raised his eyebrows. Peter let out an exaggerated sigh, "Fine." he hopped off the sofa and took his father's hand, once again leading him out of the room. Much to England's dismay, it was only a few seconds before Sealand came back.

"That was close." he whispered not-so-quietly.

"Too close," Arthur agreed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. He then threw Sealand a glare, "Were you about to tell him what happened?"

"No." Sealand lied automatically. Arthur eyed him suspiciously before heaving a sigh.

"I suppose it really doesn't matter now, does it?"

Peter didn't say anything as he took his seat. An awkward silence soon descended upon them and stretched across the room, reaching each and every corner. England drummed his fingers on his knee and Sealand rested his head on one of the dark green cushions. They didn't speak to one another, only giving the occasional furtive glance. They remained like that for such a long time that both wondered what Finland was actually doing. Sealand decided to voice his thoughts.

"What's taking him so long?" he demanded.

Arthur shrugged, "Maybe they're exchanging words of love."

Sealand snorted a giggle, "Isä doesn't think of Pappa that way."

The corners of England's lips quirked up a little.

Tino came back with an unreadable expression etched on his face. Sealand sat up straight in his seat and England merely finished what was left of his tea. As soon as he had, he grimaced and placed the tea cup back down. He hated cold tea.

"What did he say? Can I go home?" Peter asked. Finland opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He closed it and bit his lip before reopening his mouth. The sound of a phone ringing stopped him before he could tell them anything.

"I'll get that." England got to his feet and casually strolled over to the phone. Finland frowned.

"There's a phone in the living room? I didn't see it."

"I thought you might have wanted some privacy." Arthur explained before answering the phone. Finland made an "Ah" sort of noise and both he and Sealand stared at England. "Hello?"

"BRITAIN!"

"You have the wrong number." England said hurriedly and hung up. He narrowed his eyes at the phone before walking away just when the phone rang again.

"Don't answer it," Peter piped up, "It's probably someone who's got the `wrong number´ again."

Arthur grit his teeth, "It could be someone important."

Peter rolled his eyes but said no more as England gripped the phone and answered the call in a significantly more professional way than before, "Kirkland residence, Arthur speaking. Who is this?"

"IGGY!" a voice trilled from the other end and Arthur groaned, "It's ME! America! The US of A! Do you remember who I am? Do ya? Do ya? Do ya, do ya, do y-"

Arthur slammed the phone back in its cradle. He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to face Tino and Peter. "I'm sorry about that. Wrong number."

"Again." Peter said smugly. Arthur threw him a filthy look before turning to Tino.

"Are you going to take him home then?" England jerked his head in Sealand's direction.

Finland's eyes went from England to Sealand and back again. He took a deep breath and began to speak. What he told the two brothers couldn't have shocked them more.

**A/N: Cue lame-as-hell cliffhanger. I know this probably wasn't the chapter you were hoping for, but I hope it wasn't too bad all the same. Here's something that might need translated:**

_**Hyvä Jumala – Good God**_

_**Tä – shortening of the word "mitä", meaning "what"**_

**I think that's all heh. I will try to update sooner next time. Until next time, my lovelies x**


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